novelSusiti Chapter 524 Mingyue's Shock
Chapter 524 Mingyue's Shock
When Qin Mu stepped across the threshold and walked out of the house, the thin mist had mostly dissipated.
The morning light peeked out from behind the clouds, illuminating the bluestone path at the alley entrance. He stood with his hands behind his back under the two old locust trees, taking a deep breath.
Yunluan followed behind him, her hand on the hilt of her sword, bloodstains still clinging to the white cloth she hadn't had time to wipe clean. "Young Master, what should we do with Yin Sutang?"
Qin Mu didn't turn around, his voice very soft. "Let her live first. We can talk about it after she's done what she needed to do for me."
He strode toward the alley entrance, his moon-white robe fluttering gently in the morning breeze.
Yunluan followed.
When they returned to the inn, the women were already up. Jiang Zhaoyue sat by the window, holding a book, but her gaze was fixed on the doorway. Xu Fenghua sat in the corner, her teacup already cold, but she didn't drink it. Han Xin'er sat beside Su Wan, the two talking in hushed tones. Chen Wanqing stood by the window, gazing at the Moon-Viewing Tower across the street, lost in thought. Mingyue sat in the innermost corner, her slightly wavy long hair cascading over her shoulders, her head bowed, her fingers clenched tightly in her sleeves, her knuckles turning white.
The images of last night kept replaying in her mind—the woman in the dark green dress, that icy face, Elder Yin, who had haunted her nightmares for a year. Right here in this city, less than two streets away. Her heart was pounding, as fast as a drumbeat.
The door opened.
Qin Mu walked in.
The women all stood up and gave a slight curtsy. "Young Master."
Qin Mu waved his hand, walked to the main seat, sat down, leaned back in his chair, and propped his chin on one hand. A half-smile played on his lips, revealing no emotion.
Yunluan stood behind him, her hand on the hilt of her sword, her back ramrod straight.
Jiang Zhaoyue stepped forward and poured him a cup of tea. "Young Master, has the matter been settled?"
Qin Mu picked up his teacup, took a small sip, and put it down. "It's done."
Mingyue's body trembled slightly. Her gaze fell on Qin Mu's face, then on Yunluan's hand—the bloodstains on the white cloth were not yet dry, dark red, gleaming alarmingly in the morning light. Her pupils contracted slightly, and her fingers clenched even tighter in her sleeve.
Jiang Zhaoyue didn't ask any further questions, but simply nodded and stepped aside.
Xu Fenghua kept her head down, making her expression unreadable. Her fingers gently traced the rim of the cup, her fingertips turning white.
Han Xin'er looked at Qin Mu, then at Yun Luan, opened her mouth as if to say something, but then closed it again.
Su Wan stood in the corner, holding a teacup in both hands, taking small sips, but her eyes were fixed on the bloodstained white cloth in Yun Luan's hand.
Chen Wanqing stood by the window, without turning around. Her shoulders were slightly tense, like a fully drawn bow.
Mingyue finally couldn't hold back any longer. She raised her head, looked at Qin Mu, and said softly, her voice trembling slightly. "Young Master... that Elder Yin... she..."
Qin Mu turned his head to look at her, the smile on his lips deepening. "Her what?"
Mingyue's lips trembled violently. She took a deep breath, suppressing the surging fear little by little, her voice hoarse. "Is...is she dead?"
Qin Mu shook his head. "No. I still have a use for her."
A flicker of confusion, and a hint of inexplicable disappointment, flashed in Mingyue's eyes. She hated that woman. She hated her to the core. In the days and nights she spent imprisoned in the manor, she dreamt countless times of killing that woman in the dark green dress with her own hands. But she knew she couldn't do it. She was just a weak woman, powerless to even kill a chicken.
Qin Mu looked at her, his gaze calm as still water. "You hate her?"
Mingyue lowered her head, her fingers clenching tightly inside her sleeve, her nails digging into her palms. Her voice was soft, as soft as a withered leaf falling from a branch. "I hate her. I hate her. I wish she were dead."
Qin Mu leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers lightly on the armrest. "She won't die. At least not now."
Mingyue's body trembled slightly as she raised her head to meet his gaze. Her eyes were filled with confusion, and a hint of barely suppressed pleading.
Qin Mu looked at her and smiled. "However, I can let you go see her."
Mingyue's pupils suddenly contracted, as if pricked by a needle. Her lips trembled violently, as if she wanted to say something, but something seemed to be blocking her throat, and she couldn't squeeze out a single word.
Qin Mu stood up and straightened his robes. "Let's go. I'll take you there."
Mingyue suddenly stood up, her legs feeling weak. She staggered and had to grab the edge of the table to steady herself. Her heart was pounding so hard it felt like it would jump out of her chest, and her breathing became rapid.
Qin Mu had already started walking towards the door. His moon-white robe trailed on the ground, making a soft rustling sound. Yun Luan followed behind him.
Mingyue gritted her teeth and followed.
Jiang Zhaoyue watched the three figures disappear into the distance, a slight smile playing on her lips, but said nothing. Xu Fenghua kept her head down, her expression unreadable. Han Xin'er held Su Wan's hand, and the two exchanged a glance, both seeing curiosity and unease in each other's eyes.
Chen Wanqing finally turned around, looked at the empty door, and frowned slightly.
The Zhou residence is located in Liuxiang, west of the city.
Mingyue stood under the two old locust trees, staring at the tightly closed gate, her legs trembling and her hands shaking. Countless images flashed through her mind—the Northern Wilderness manor, the cold stone walls, the clanging of iron chains, and that woman standing at the end of the corridor, looking at her with those icy eyes as if she were an ant.
Yunluan stepped forward and pushed open the door. The door was unlocked, and the wooden door creaked softly, its sound particularly clear in the quiet alley.
Qin Mu stepped inside. Mingyue followed behind him, her steps unsteady as if she were walking on cotton.
The courtyard remained unchanged. The ground was paved with blue bricks, and several pots of chrysanthemums were placed under the eaves, blooming in full glory. The door to the main room was still open, and a faint smell of blood emanated from within.
Mingyue stood at the entrance of the main room and glanced inside.
Then she froze.
Yin Sutang sat in a chair, her left hand tightly wrapped in white cloth, blood still seeping from her severed wrist, staining the cloth dark red. Her face was deathly pale, her lips devoid of color, her eyes red and swollen, her face streaked with tears. Her right hand—no, her right hand was gone. Only an empty sleeve hung limply at her side, the cuff stained with blood.
She leaned back in her chair, eyes closed, breathing rapidly and weakly, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, wanting to meow but unable to make a sound.
Mingyue's eyes widened, her mouth opened slightly, and she let out a "hoarse" sound, as if someone had grabbed her by the neck. She couldn't believe her eyes.
The woman sitting in the chair, barely alive, like a dead dog, is Elder Yin, who was once arrogant and feared by everyone in the Northern Mang Manor.
This woman, with a missing hand, a face streaked with tears, and barely able to sit up, is the one who once crushed all her hopes, dignity, and dreams with a single finger.
Her mind was blank, as blank as a bronze mirror that had been wiped countless times, empty of anything but a blinding, desolate white.
She turned her head and looked at Qin Mu. The moon-white figure stood under the corridor, hands behind his back, a half-smile playing on his lips. His gaze was fixed on Yin Sutang, calm as still water, as if he were looking at an object unrelated to himself.
Mingyue's lips trembled violently. She wanted to say "thank you," "you are amazing, young master," and something else, but it was as if something was blocking her throat, and she couldn't squeeze out a single word.
Tears welled up in her eyes. Not tears of sorrow, not tears of fear, but tears of relief, tears of relief as if she had survived a catastrophe. The man who had haunted her nightmares for a whole year, the shadow she thought she could never escape, had been crushed by this man with a single hand, like crushing an ant.
She knelt down. Her knees slammed onto the blue bricks with a dull thud. Her forehead touched the ground, her slightly curly long hair spread out on the floor, and her shoulders trembled violently.
"Young master... thank you, young master..."
Her voice was hoarse and tearful, each word sounding as if it had been dug out from the depths of her heart with all her might.
Qin Mu turned his head and looked at her for a long time. He didn't help her up, didn't say "Don't cry," and didn't say anything else. He just stood there, like a silent mountain, like a tree that wouldn't move.
Get up.
His voice was very soft, as if he were talking about something extremely ordinary.
Mingyue stood up, wiped her tears with her sleeve, and lowered her head, not daring to look at him. Her legs were still weak, and her hands were still trembling, but she gritted her teeth and stood straight.
Qin Mu turned around and walked towards the door. "Let's go. Let's go back for dinner."
Mingyue followed him out of the house. The sunlight shone on her face, warm and comforting. She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled the heavy, suffocating feeling that had been stuck in her chest for so long.
She looked up at the moon-white figure, and only one thought crossed her mind—she had chosen the right man.