The expression Ling Ge wears is smoother than porcelain and calmer than the surface of a lake. I pin him with a searching stare to gain insight into his thoughts. He still doesn’t react, and my words hang in the air, restless.

What should I do?

I search my mind, desperately seeking an answer. Still, nothing. My heart palpitates so rapidly it seems fit to explode from my chest, and I’m struck by an inexplicable urge to vomit. It takes me a moment to recognize this feeling, and it isn’t overwhelming rage, like I first assumed. It’s fear.

For the first time in my life, I fear him.

The image painted by his actions clashes with how I’ve always seen him. This serial womanizer born into the lap of luxury, who cared for nothing but satiating his desires, who splurged his shared inheritance as easily as he breathed, was actually capable of wringing a person’s neck until life bled from their eyes.

I don’t want to believe it. Though we’d never been on good terms, our relationship was never as bad as the one between me and Shi Ning. I grew up around him. I remember, vaguely, playing together when we were children. I saw him on and off throughout my schooling years, after he’d stepped into his first role at our father’s company. The only time where our contact had been completely cut was when I’d left to go live with Auntie Bao.

I’m not naïve to believe one year of not seeing him is capable of bringing about a monstrous change in him. Thus, it was more accurate to conclude he’d been like this all along. And now, with Ying Ze’s claims, the evidence Ling Ge himself provided, there’s no denying the truth.

“You killed her.” My words ring throughout the room with conviction.

A maelstrom of emotions rage within me, and the one that stands out is the worst of them all - shame. I had been so sure of myself, believing that what I did was what Shi Ning deserved.

This was the universe tearing down the veil of justifications I built for myself to sleep well at night. This is a special kind of cosmic irony. I had assumed Ling Ge and I were decent people when in reality, we were the worst sort of scum capable of committing heinous acts with smiles on our faces.

Ling Ge doesn’t acknowledge my accusation. “I obviously meant what I said as a joke. I neglected to realize both of you would take it so seriously. Are you aware of the saying that people say outrageous things under pressure? It shouldn’t come as a surprise since I was kidnapped and interrogated in the span of a few hours.”

“So it was a lucky coincidence your joke matched exactly how she died?” Ying Ze would have evidence to back up her claim. He can’t weasel his way out of this one. “You’d have a better chance of winning the lottery instead of trying to get us to believe that.”

Seeing me staunchly rejecting his plea for understanding, he turns to Ying Ze.

“Mother. You know me. I’ve always made crude jokes at the most inopportune times. Think back to when father was still alive. I can’t count how many times I was given a dressing down for embarrassing him.”

Ying Ze folds her arms. “And why should I trust anything you say?”

“I’m your son. That should be reason enough to believe me over whatever else you’ve heard.” Ling Ge speaks like he’s attempting to coax a child, with honeyed words and misdirection. “But that’s not the problem here. Mother, don’t dodge the fact that you purposely released false information. If the truth behind the Shi Ning’s matter is revealed, there’s no telling how the public will react. Our stock already took a hit once this year, and I’d rather not put our shareholders through that again.”

“It is pointless to worry,” Ying Ze says. “I’ve already taken necessary precautions.”

“There are no walls that don’t leak.” Ling Ge ignores her rapidly blackening expression and continues speaking. “All it takes is for a disgruntled employee to catch wind of it. And once people discover what you did, it’ll be impossible to quell their rage.”

“And what would they do? We are above them, they can only dream about touching us.”

“That’s not true at all. Think of how much money the company would lose in order to get back in their favour!”

Ying Ze strikes him with an open palmed slap to his face. His head whips to the side. With how hard she hit him, it’s a matter of time before his cheek is splotched red.

Ying Ze shows no signs of regret as she draws her arm back, sheathing it under her other arm. I blink, stunned by the turn of events. For her to raise a hand to him shows that Ling Ge is treading in deep water. Ying Ze has never been less than a saint to her children, to the point where someone sneezing on them would see justice meted out for their insolence.

From the look on his face, I can tell Ling Ge himself has a hard time believing what just happened. I try not to grin. I never thought I’d see the day I get to see the demon mother hit her own spawn.

Ling Ge adjusts his neck, rolling his shoulders as if checking to see if his head is still attached. He runs his tongue over his split upper lip. The expensive ring Ying Ze never goes without has left its mark on his pristine face.

Mother and son hold each other gazes, none giving an inch. The tension in the room grows thick enough to strangle. I don’t miss the flash of resentment in his eyes, and I doubt Ying Ze does.

“You might be my son,” Ying Ze finally says. “But you and Shi Ning were never in the same league.”

sHow heartless. I almost felt bad for my half-brother.

Ling Ge immediately reacts by leaping at her with outstretched hands. Sherlock must have predicted it, because he tackles Ling Ge out of the air before his finger can even graze the hem of Ying Ze’s dress. Ling Ge crashes into the nearby wardrobe and goes down with a cry of pain.

I guess this is why she hired a guard dog?

Sherlock sneers at Ling Ge’s pathetic figure. He turns to me, “Now I understand why she had you bound, girl.”

“Hey!” Why is he insulting me when I’m being obedient? “I have a perfectly good head on my shoulders. I would never try something like that unless I was desperate. And by that, I mean if I was going to die anyway, then putting up a fight actually makes sense.”

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Ling Ge groans from his ungraceful position on the floor, the toppled wardrobe partially splintered beneath him. Looking at him now, I can almost forgive Ying Ze for kidnapping me. She’s provided plenty of entertainment, and being punched in the face is nothing compared to seeing Ling Ge getting slapped around.

Sherlock strides over to a still groaning Ling Ge. His boots flatten the remains of the wood splinters. He kicks a particularly large one out of the way, and I watch the jagged piece of wood skip across the floor towards me, only stopping when it hits the leg of my chair.

I tremble in anticipation. What is Ying Ze going to order Sherlock to do? Breaking Ling Ge’s legs seems like too harsh a punishment. A finger or two would be more likely. Then again, he is still her son. Hm, but she’s already let Sherlock pummel him, so what’s adding another injury to the list?

“That is enough,” Ying Ze says, disappointment is laid bare on her face. “Help him up.”

Sherlock grabs Ling Ge’s shoulders, manhandling him into an upright position. Ying Ze gestures at Shi Ning’s bed. Sherlock nods, and Ling Ge is carelessly lifted by his armpits and tossed onto the queen-sized mattress. He lands face first, splayed out on the light purple bedsheets like a bastardized snow angel.

Sherlock makes to tie his arms, but Ying Ze stops him with a raised hand. “There’s no need for that. Just hold him down to make sure he won’t try to assault me again.”

My mouth drops open. Just moments ago, she was ready to dish out punishment. Is she going to let him off with a slap for what he did?

A bored looking Oscar goes behind Ling Ge to lock his arms behind his back. This supposedly improved treatment doesn’t put out the fire in Ling Ge’s eyes. His fierce glower oscillates between me and his mother as if he can’t decide who he wants to strangle more.

“If you refuse to believe my innocence, there’s no point trying to convince you,” he spits. Ling Ge has never looked uglier than he does now. His natural handsomeness, a mix of his mother’s pointed features and our father’s jawline, is marred by his twisted sneer and poisonous words. “Are you going to hand Father’s company to our extended family, who won’t care about anything other than profit? Or better yet, to this uncultured family swine, who has no qualms about stabbing you when your back is turned?”

Being treated like a ragdoll must have rattled his brain. If he’s second to Shi Ning in his mother’s eyes, I’m probably lower than the dirt beneath her heels.

“Before I continue,” Ying Ze says. “Mei Ling.”

“Y-Yes?” This is a terrible time to exhibit reluctance. I swallow my nervousness and say, “What the hell do you want?”

“Your habit of covering up anxiety with bluster hasn’t changed.” Ying Ze says. “My son has yet to admit to his wrongs, but you should know that I haven’t forgotten about the assistance you provided him.”

“How ominous.” My sarcasm cushions my heart as it plummets to the ground. I was hoping Ying Ze would be distracted enough to leave me at the wayside, but that line of thinking proved too good to be true. “It’s completely unnecessary to threaten me. I’m already at your mercy, if you haven’t already noticed.”

Hell hath no fury like a mother scorned, but it remains to be seen if a mother can scorn her flesh and blood. Meanwhile, I’m the daughter of her husband’s mistress, the perfect scapegoat. Who’s going to stop her from pushing all the blame to me?

Auntie Bao. Jin Ma. Athea. I wish at least one of them were here.

And because Ling Ge is never content to see someone better off than him, he decides to make matters worse. “If I’m not escaping this unscathed, which I surely won’t, you’d be a fool to think I won’t drag you down with me.”

“Mother,” he address the stoic Ying Ze with a repulsive grin on his face. “You might be right about me being the mastermind behind the matter of the scandal, but, I swear on my life I did not lay a hand on Shi Ning.”

“Then how did you know how she died?” I challenge.

He scoffs. “How else? By bribing the moles I planted in the police force. I learned from the best. Father didn’t get to where he did by keeping his hands clean.”

“Ying Ze said Shi Ning would have never killed herself, and I already I agreed. Are you accusing her of lying?”

“The conclusion both of you came to is a logical one. But,” Ling Ge says, his mouth hooked up in a sly smile. “It’s an assumption based on what you thought you knew, and you can’t know everything about a person. To say you did would be arrogant.”

I open my mouth to argue, but Sherlock’s booming voice cuts us off.

“QUIET!” We shrink in submission, reduced to glaring bloody holes into each other. “Let Lady Han speak.”

Ying Ze has returned to her original perch, her bottom seated comfortably on the ornate redwood desk. “Are you saying I don’t know my daughter well enough to make an accurate judgement of her character?”

The warning in her voice is clear. You would be an idiot not to notice it. Ying Ze’s persona is colder than a winter gale, but her temper can run hot if stoked properly. My father had always managed to do it expertly, and as the saying went, like father like son.

Ling Ge smiles. “Not in so many words, no.” Yeah, he hit his head and went from scheming all the way to suicidal. “What I am saying is that I cannot be blamed for her death. Because the fact is, I did not kill her.”

“Her death was unnatural,” I say.

“And somehow you take it to mean I killed her? I know you read the coroner’s report, Mother. There was absolutely no evidence of Shi Ning dying any other way but by her own hands.”

I almost think he’s lying. But, Ying Ze doesn’t dispute his claim, and she’s been vocal about what he’s lied about so far.

“Then why did Ying Ze accuse you? And why did you react badly enough to attack her?” I fire back.

“Being told you were never loved by your own mother is enough of a reason to slap her around.” Ling Ge isn’t holding back from speaking his mind anymore. It’s funny how he can speak so callously when he’s always showed himself a gallant gentleman. “Also, I might have wanted to ruin Shi Ning’s reputation, but it doesn’t mean I wanted her to die.”

“So if you didn’t do it, why are we here?!”

“Because you handed me the video of Shi Ning’s misdeeds, and I acted on them. Aren’t you just as guilty as me?”

“I…”

I can’t refute it. That’s the truth of the matter. Even if the video wasn’t the catalyst for Shi Ning’s suicide, I had still plotted against her. Ying Ze surely won’t let me go.

Finally coming to the same conclusion, that we were both at Ying Ze’s mercy, Ling Ge and I turn to look at her. After a frosty silence, she casts her gaze between us and speaks.

“I brought you here to ascertain the truth.” Ying Ze’s forehead is no longer taut with tension. She gets to her feet, a strange sombreness about her, completely different from her previous air of aggression.

“And did you?” Ling Ge asks.

Ying Ze’s eyes slide shut. Her next words are pained, “Shi Ning truly did die by her own hand.”

I start. “But she’s–”

“I am sure my daughter had her reasons,” Ying Ze says.

“After the ruckus Guo Feng caused at the funeral, I’d love if you told him I was innocent to keep him away,” Ling Ge says.

“Guo Feng will be dealt with soon enough.” Ying Ze walks over to Oscar, who looked bored enough to start stabbing himself. She whispers something in his ear, and he brightens up like a child handed a puppy.

“Finally.” Oscar rubs his hands together. “Some action to balance all this pointless drama.” Without waiting for a reply, the man leaves the room with a excited skip to his step.

“I assure you, Madam, that despite his personality he has never failed at the tasks he is assigned.” Sherlock says, his face lightly purpled.

“As long as he completes what I ask of him, I won’t make a fuss.” Ying Ze returns her gaze to us.

Ling Ge makes a show of stretching his arms, bending them into positions where he could lick his elbow if he wanted. I continue watching him until he shoots me a smug look.

This cheeky bastard… just because he isn’t tied up, it doesn’t mean he’s out of the woods. With that thought, I hold myself back from responding to his blatant provocation. I’ll flip the bird at him, later.

Ying Ze’s next words come out as quiet as a sigh. “Free Mei Ling and bring in what I’ve prepared. After everything I have been through, I sincerely wish to get this matter over with.”

Sherlock salutes and proceeds to cut the layers of rope binding me. I groan in relief when the pressure on my hands and legs ease off. It’s always good to get back my sense of touch.

“Finally. Any longer and I’d be a cripple.”

“I’d caution you not to get comfortable,” Sherlock’s low timbred warning curdles the hope in my chest. “This is far from over.”