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墨書 Inktalez
Shen Mo's gaze fell upon her face once more. "So, regarding the letter left by the master, what do you think, Madam? The phrase 'Heart Lotus Weeping Dew,' does it truly have any connection to you?"
Upon hearing this, Lady Lian's already pale complexion turned even more ashen, and her body trembled slightly with an uncontrollable shiver. "I... I truly do not understand why the master would write such words! I have always held the master in great respect, never harboring any ill intentions! This... this must be slander! Someone is trying to frame me!" Her reaction seemed to surpass normal sadness and grievance, appearing unusually agitated.
Shen Mo chose not to press further on Lady Lian's excessive agitation, knowing that pushing too hard at this moment might backfire. He shifted the conversation and inquired about the guest who had visited last night.
"What do you know about Mr. Gu Mingyuan?"
"Mr. Gu is the young master of Gu Yun Zhai in the southern part of the city and a well-known connoisseur of calligraphy and painting," Lady Lian seemed to have calmed down a bit as she replied. "He is an old friend of the master's, and they share a common language in collecting and appreciating art, so they often visit each other. Last night, it seemed they were discussing an ancient inkstone, which should be the 'Ink Dragon Soaring' that the master recently acquired. According to the servants in the manor, they appeared to be quite engaged in their conversation."
After bidding farewell to Lady Lian, Shen Mo was next to meet Wen Shaoqing, the only son of the Wen family.
When summoned by a servant to the front hall, Wen Shaoqing appeared somewhat disheveled, still bearing traces of a hangover and impatience. In his early twenties, he inherited some of Wen Boyuan's elegance but was overshadowed by an unmistakable air of arrogance and restlessness. Upon seeing Shen Mo, he merely lazily cupped his hands in greeting, his demeanor rather cold.
"Someone's dead; what more can you find out?" Wen Shaoqing began with a tone tinged with irritation. "My father spent his life obsessed with worthless antiques and old books; he must have offended countless people over those things. Who knows which enemy came knocking!"
Shen Mo quietly regarded him and asked in a flat tone, "Your father has unfortunately passed away; it seems you are not particularly saddened by it?"
At this remark, Wen Shaoqing let out a scoff as if he had heard a joke. "Sad? He just finished scolding me for wanting to cut off my allowance and kick me out of the house before he died! Should I really be mourning him? But let me clarify—I'm not responsible for his death; it has nothing to do with me! Last night, I was at the most famous Drunken Immortal Pavilion in town having fun with friends until dawn. The owner and staff there, along with my buddies, can all vouch for me!" He rushed through his words as if eager to clear himself of suspicion.
"You must know that your father intended to revise his will?" Shen Mo pressed on.
At the mention of the will, Wen Shaoqing's expression darkened immediately, a flicker of resentment flashing in his eyes. "Hmph! I've heard! That old fool! I think he was bewitched by that vixen named Liu! She may act all soft and kind-hearted every day, but she's deeply scheming! It could very well be that she conspired with some lover to kill him off and wants to swallow the family fortune all for herself!" His hatred for his stepmother was almost blatantly written across his face.
"So what do you think about your father's letter?" Shen Mo asked.
"What nonsense letter!" Wen Shaoqing waved dismissively. "My father's handwriting may be good, but it's not impossible for someone else to imitate it! In my opinion, it could very well be that woman or that cunning Uncle Zhong playing tricks—writing it ambiguously on purpose to frame someone else!" His tone was filled with malice and suspicion but also suggested a possibility—that the letter might indeed be forged.
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