Chapter 2: The Dowager Arrives—Could the Empty Suit Be a Madman?

“Father, look at sister—she... she seems to have lost her mind.”
Ye Qinglian hid behind Wang Feifei, a glint of satisfaction flickering in her eyes.
Wang Feifei pressed a handkerchief to the corner of her eye. “Qingyan, I know you’re heartbroken, but you can’t spout nonsense and blame us for your mother’s death! We mother and daughter are innocent...”
Watching their seamless act of mutual sympathy, Jiang Tan sneered inwardly.
The original Ye Qingyan was a spoiled, useless fool with a timid nature. If she followed her old path now, she’d only be crying or beaten to death.
But Jiang Tan was not here to suffer in silence!
“Heh heh... hahaha...” Jiang Tan suddenly started chuckling, her laughter growing louder until it turned into manic cackling.
She fixed her gaze unblinkingly on Wang Feifei and her mother. “I saw her... I saw mother...”
Trembling, she pointed behind Wang Feifei. “Mother is right behind you, covered in blood, asking me... why, just after she died, father wanted to make you the rightful wife...” Her voice was piercing, echoing through the empty ancestral hall.
Ye Qinglian screamed in terror, spinning around, but behind her was nothing but the fluttering white funeral banners.
Wang Feifei was also stunned by this mad display, her face pale as she forced herself to stay composed. “What nonsense are you talking about? You’re just overwhelmed with grief and losing your mind!”
“Traitor! Posture! Fix your appearance at once! How disgraceful!”
Ye Qingyan immediately decided to play along and take the madness all the way!
Under the suspicious gazes of Wang Feifei, her mother, and the servants, Ye Qingyan abruptly stopped crying and babbling.
She halted all movement, stood straight, and began slowly and deliberately adjusting her disheveled clothing and tangled hair.
Her every motion was meticulous.
“She’s lost it—Miss really has gone mad...” whispered a timid maid.
As she tidied herself, Jiang Tan muttered, “Mother said, even if we of the Shen family die, we must die with dignity...” Her erratic screams and calm yet eerie composure sent chills down the spine.
“You!” Wang Feifei trembled with rage, ready to lash out and silence Ye Qingyan, but when their eyes met, her steps faltered.
She wasn’t afraid of a useless daughter—but a mad one? Who knew what outrageous thing she might do next!
Wang Feifei collapsed crying at Ye Chengzong’s feet. “Master! Look at her, what has she become! Shen sister’s death truly has nothing to do with us! Please rule in our favor!”
Ye Chengzong’s face darkened like iron. He looked at his legitimate daughter with disgust and apprehension.
He knew well that Shen’s death was closely tied to Wang Feifei.
But the Shen family had fallen, and a capable new wife was far more useful than a deceased first wife.
He had intended to use this opportunity to crush Ye Qingyan utterly, so she’d never rise again—but unexpectedly, his once timid daughter had gone mad!
A madwoman could neither be reasoned with nor condemned. If word spread that he drove his late wife’s daughter insane, what would become of his reputation?
Just as the tense atmosphere in the ancestral hall reached its freezing point, a servant’s loud and anxious announcement came from outside.
“The matriarch has arrived—!” Before the words finished, every face in the hall changed in unison.

The true authority of the Ye family, Ye Chengzong’s mother—the matriarch who ruled the inner household with absolute authority—had been disturbed!
Panic flickered in Wang Feifei’s eyes. The matriarch valued rules above all; Ye Qingyan’s madness would surely earn her disdain!
She hurried ahead of everyone, rushing to the door, tearfully pleading, “Mother, please take our side! Qingyan has been acting strange ever since Shen sister’s passing—speaking nonsense, even hitting people, saying she sees unclean spirits...”
As she spoke, she exaggerated Ye Qingyan’s earlier “madness” and how she “slandered” them mother and daughter.
The matriarch entered, surrounded by a retinue of maids and housekeepers.
Her gaze was sharp as a blade, slowly sweeping over the weeping Wang Feifei, her sullen son Ye Chengzong, and the fearful Ye Qinglian. Finally, it settled on the solitary figure standing in the center of the hall—Ye Qingyan.
At that moment, Ye Qingyan suddenly clutched her head and crouched down, trembling violently, her voice trembling with terror.
“Ghosts... there are ghosts! Grandmother, so many ghosts... all surrounding Stepmother Wang and Second Sister—they’re laughing, laughing so terribly...”
Wang Feifei’s face flushed bright red. “You’re lying! Mother, don’t believe her! She’s deliberately defaming us!”
The matriarch had seen more secrets of the inner household than anyone. A perfectly normal young lady suddenly going mad—if there were no ghosts involved, she wouldn’t believe it herself.
Just as she prepared to question further, that imposing voice echoed once more inside Jiang Tan’s mind.
“Traitor! You dare not kneel before your sovereign? How improper! Kneel before me this instant!”
This system was truly a master of mischief!
Following the “command,” she dropped to her knees with a solid thud.
Then she raised her head, wearing a fanatical, devout expression, and began kowtowing repeatedly in the matriarch’s direction, loudly proclaiming a phrase that left everyone present speechless:
“Your Majesty, wise and enlightened! Long live the Emperor, long live, long live! Your humble servant takes leave to patrol the realm for Your Majesty!”
After finishing, she tried to get up, staggering clumsily as if to go “patrolling” outside.
The ancestral hall fell into a deathly silence. Everyone was stunned by her nonsensical, erratic performance—sometimes lucid, sometimes insane.
Addressing the matriarch as “Your Majesty”? Calling herself a “humble servant”? Planning to “patrol the realm”?
If this wasn’t madness, what was? This was madness to the core!
Ye Chengzong’s face had turned an ominous black; he felt utterly disgraced by his daughter’s antics.
Wang Feifei had a whole speech prepared to have Ye Qingyan severely punished, but faced with a deranged woman who barely recognized anyone, what could she say?
To argue with a madwoman would only make herself lose face.
The matriarch stared at Ye Qingyan, frowning deeply. She had lived long enough to see all manner of sordid affairs.
Shen’s death was suspicious, Wang Feifei was eager to rise, and her son was a fool.
This granddaughter hadn’t gone mad sooner or later—just at this critical moment, she snapped.
“Is she truly mad, or merely pretending?”
But seeing her swollen, red forehead from kowtowing and her eyes that flickered between terror and fanaticism—yet showed no normal human emotion—the matriarch was forced to believe at least seventy to eighty percent.
Even if it was an act, to fake it this thoroughly was no small feat.
To dig deeper would only bring chaos to the household and turn the Ye family into a laughingstock throughout the capital.
Finally, the matriarch sighed wearily and waved her hand in resignation. Her voice carried a reluctant authority.
“Alas... unfortunate times for our family. Bring the young lady back to Qingqiu Courtyard and watch her carefully. She is not to leave again.”
“Also, immediately fetch a renowned physician to thoroughly examine her.”
House arrest and medical examination—both punishment and protection.
“Mother!” Wang Feifei protested, unwilling to let her go so easily.
The matriarch cast her a cold glance. “What? You still wish to quarrel with a mad child? Or do you want the entire capital to come witness the Ye family’s disgrace?”
Wang Feifei shivered under that look and dared say no more.
Thus, Jiang Tan was “escorted” out of the ancestral hall by two housekeepers.
The first hurdle was finally passed.
Qingqiu Courtyard was the estate of the original mistress, Lady Shen. Since her illness, the place had fallen into ruin.
The weeds in the courtyard rose over a person’s height, moss covered the steps, and the paint on the doors was chipped and faded.
The housekeepers threw Jiang Tan into the room and locked the door outside, clearly under Wang Feifei’s orders to intimidate her.
Jiang Tan paid no mind. She looked around the shabby yet clean room; the faint scent of her mother’s herbal medicines still lingered in the air.
She walked to the bedside and sank down wearily, her taut nerves finally loosening.
Just now in the ancestral hall, she had danced on the edge of a knife—one misstep would have meant ruin beyond redemption.
Fortunately, she had won the gamble. And luckily, she had that inexplicable imperial system’s “divine assistance.”
As she pondered this, the imposing voice sounded again in her mind, but this time it was filled with displeasure and a lofty, judgmental tone.
“Traitor! Today, before the court... and in the ancestral hall, your conduct was barely adequate—you narrowly preserved your life. But!”
The system’s voice suddenly deepened, heavy as an impending storm.
“Your words were incoherent, your manner unbecoming of royal dignity, causing my... host to lose face! I am deeply angered and will impose punishment to serve as a warning!”
Jiang Tan’s heart sank sharply.
Punishment? What kind of punishment? Electric shock or elimination?