Chapter 77: The Haunted House (10)

“What are you doing?” Jinghua suddenly spoke, and almost instantly pressed close to her face.

The grotesque fish-eye lens effect was truly terrifying.

With a dagger clenched tightly behind her back, Su Man maintained a calm expression. “I couldn’t sleep, so I came out for a walk. Madam Jinghua, are you also unable to sleep?”

Jinghua retreated slightly, her tone mechanical and rigid. “I heard a little mouse and came out to check. Don’t wander around outside. When it’s time to sleep, you should go to bed.”

With that, she turned and walked away.

Su Man was perplexed; she hadn’t tried to harm her.

Jinghua had only taken a few steps before suddenly turning back, her gaze fixed intensely on Su Man. “You’re sharing a room with Ai Ji?”

Su Man didn’t understand what Jinghua was up to, but sensed no murderous intent, so she nodded honestly. “Yes.”

“Hm. She doesn’t sleep well. Sorry for the trouble.”

After saying this, Jinghua truly left.

So, she’d come looking for her just to say that?

Su Man watched her departing figure, lost in thought.

When she returned to Ai Ji’s room, the girl was already deeply asleep.

The night air was still a bit chilly. Su Man closed the window, picked up a small blanket, and gently laid it over Ai Ji.

Ai Ji rolled over, mumbling something indistinct. Su Man couldn’t quite catch it.

But Ai Ji kept murmuring, so Su Man leaned in to listen. Amidst the jumble of words, only two stood out: Ai Ji was calling for her mother.

Su Man gazed at the moon outside the window, and couldn’t help but think of her own mother. Sadly, she had no memory of her birth mother, and even her foster mother’s face had faded so much over the years that she could scarcely recall it.

Was this space of obsession Ai Ji’s? The longing for a mother who cared only for her?

Su Man spent the night sleeping on the floor. The next morning, she awoke to the sensation of something being placed on her.

Alert, she opened her eyes to find Ai Ji struggling to cover her with the small blanket, so absorbed in the task she didn’t notice Su Man was awake.

Their eyes met unexpectedly. Ai Ji blushed, wringing her little hands and shyly said, “Mom says sleeping on the floor makes you sick. I don’t want you to get sick.”

“Thank you.” Su Man patted her head. Ai Ji blushed deeper, her eyes shining; if she had a tail, it would surely be wagging.

The morning had arrived. Su Man didn’t plan to sleep any longer, so she tidied up the blanket and sat up.

Ai Ji sat by the bed, watching her, hesitated, then spoke. “Yesterday... Baby Princess didn’t come back.”

Su Man paused. Ai Ji quickly corrected herself. “It’s alright, I know Baby Princess will come back.”

Su Man looked at her. Such a small child already knew how to force a smile, though she hadn’t learned to hide her reddened eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Su Man apologized earnestly, not glossing over it just because Ai Ji was a child.

Ai Ji couldn’t hold back her tears, crying as she apologized, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t cry. I’m sorry, I won’t cry anymore. Please don’t dislike me.”

Seeing her like this, Su Man’s heart ached even more, and she felt she was looking at her own past. What had happened to Ai Ji, that she felt she needed to apologize for crying?

“Don’t apologize to me, Ai Ji. Listen, you haven’t done anything wrong.”

“That’s not true, Ai Ji did something wrong.” Ai Ji cried harder. “Dad and Grandma both say Baby Princess is just a little dog. They say I shouldn’t cry over a dog, that it makes me different, and then no one will like Ai Ji.”

Su Man was furious. Why should crying for a dog make her different?

“Ai Ji, there’s nothing wrong with being different. Animals and people alike have feelings and lives. There’s nothing wrong with shedding tears for a life.” Su Man looked at her earnestly. “Do you like Baby Princess?”

Ai Ji nodded through her sobs. “Yes, she’s my Baby Princess.”

She whispered indignantly, “Dad and Grandma say she’s a stinky dog, but she’s my Baby Princess.”

Su Man nodded. “That’s right, you really are different from them. You’re kinder, you have a soft heart. Do you know what an angel is? Angels are kind, beautiful, and powerful. Ai Ji, you’re a little angel. No one would ever blame an angel for shedding a tear.”

“Really? Ai Ji is an angel?” Ai Ji had never heard of angels, but the idea took root in her heart. Her anxious mood was soothed. Sunlight poured through the window, wrapping her in a soft, fuzzy glow, making her look both gentle and adorable. “Then can Ai Ji cry for Baby Princess in the future?”

“Maybe you shouldn’t.”

“Huh...?”

“Because Ai Ji will always live happily with Baby Princess. Happy lives don’t need tears.” Su Man drew her the grandest picture.

But it didn’t matter. At least Ai Ji smiled—and she smiled with real joy.

As soon as Su Man and Ai Ji left the room, a scream rang out from downstairs.

Su Man thought perhaps Qian Ji’s body had been discovered, but when she went downstairs, she found the sound came from Chen Meng’s room.

Jinghua, Qian Yuan, and all the others came out of their rooms, frowning as they descended.

Chen Meng, terrified, ran from her room, shouting in panic, “Dead, dead, Hu Chai is dead!”

Her legs gave way from fear, and she fell to the floor after only a few steps.

Su Man paused at her words. Hu Chai was dead?

It felt like the emperor’s enterprise cut short before it could flourish. She’d thought he was the protagonist of this story, yet he died so suddenly? Was it because Qian Ji had died as a child?

Stepping past Chen Meng, she entered the room and saw Hu Chai’s corpse placed in the most conspicuous spot. Four words described it: too gruesome to bear.

He’d been torn apart, blood everywhere, limbs scattered, and no wonder Chen Meng appeared mentally deranged—anyone would lose composure upon encountering such a crime scene first thing in the morning.

Jinghua’s family gathered around, not even blinking at the carnage. But Grandma collapsed onto the floor, wailing and slapping her thighs.

“Oh, my poor eldest grandson, what happened? Oh heavens, who could have done this?”

Su Man looked at her in surprise. Eldest grandson? So she’d known Hu Chai’s identity all along. Her suspicions had been correct. The way Grandma had defended Hu Chai now made sense.

She glanced at Jinghua and Qian Yuan; Qian Yuan remained expressionless, while Jinghua yawned lazily—mechanical, yet oddly lively.

Strange. This family was truly strange.

And just then, the doorbell rang. A guest had arrived at this haunted house!