Becoming a literary master starting from the story of Minglan

Chapter 463 Taking Action
In the end, Sheng Hong dared not and could not force Liang Han to stay in the Sheng residence.

With the help and coercion of the servants of the Sheng family, Liang Han calmed down a little and could only leave the artificial hill in a disheveled state. Once she was a little farther away, the shame of being caught in the act was quickly overwhelmed by greater fear and the desire to get away.

He was, after all, the son of an earl, so the servants of the Sheng family dared not be too rude.

"Let go!"

After breaking free of the servants, Liang Han scrambled to hide behind a rock. Only after confirming that the Sheng family hadn't followed did he dare to breathe heavily, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it was going to explode.

He forced himself to remain calm, straightened his disheveled brocade robe, and smoothed his messy sideburns, trying to regain a semblance of dignity as a count's son. However, when he saw Sheng Hong, supported by Dong Rong, staggering closer behind with a deathly pale face and dark red blood still lingering at the corner of his mouth, his feigned composure crumbled instantly.

He scrambled forward again, making a perfunctory, almost obsequious bow, his voice trembling uncontrollably, filled with guilt and an eagerness to escape this hellish scene.

"Uncle Sheng... Uncle Sheng! Please calm down! Please calm down! Today's events... were purely accidental! A misunderstanding! A huge misunderstanding!"

He spoke incoherently, his eyes darting around, unable to meet Sheng Hong's gaze, which burned with anger and shame.

"Nephew...Nephew has a matter of utmost urgency at home, and my mother urgently summons him!"

"...It's really...it's really inconvenient for me to stay any longer, so...I'll take my leave now!"

"Another day! Another day I will definitely come to apologize!"

Before he could finish speaking, he was chased by a ghost, almost tumbling and stumbling as he ran wildly down the mountain road.

I stumbled along, sometimes sinking deep, sometimes shallow, and almost fell several times.

Covered in dust, reeking of alcohol and cosmetics, and filled with lingering terror, Liang Han was like a beaten dog in the water. He fled this hellish scene without looking back, wishing his parents had more legs. He ran desperately toward the Yongchang Earl's Mansion, seeking his mother's protection.

Even though Sheng Hong was feeling frustrated and his blood was boiling, he couldn't help but laugh in anger at Liang Han's pathetic and irresponsible behavior!

"hehe!"

"Look, is this the 'path to survival' you chose? The 'high branch' you climbed?" His voice was hoarse, filled with endless sarcasm and sorrow. He didn't even glance at Mo Lan, who was being held by the old woman, as if looking at her would offend his eyes.

He suppressed the metallic taste in his throat and the sharp pain in his chest, his face grim, but his hands and feet moved with unusual agility as he commanded: "Dongrong! Hold that wretched child tighter! Take her back to the ancestral hall!"

Without lingering, carrying the humiliation of being stained with blood and the rage of boundless anger, he hurried back to the Sheng residence with heavy but swift steps.

Time has become a sharp blade hanging overhead.

……

Shengfu Ancestral Hall.

The candlelight flickered before the solemn ancestral tablets, its dim, swaying light reflecting off the cold, smooth, dark blue brick floor, casting long, distorted shadows of the tablets and adding to the suffocating oppression and deathly silence.

The air seemed to solidify into a heavy block of lead, pressing down on everyone's heart.

Sheng Hong slumped into a heavy, black, four-cornered official's hat chair. This chair, which symbolized the dignity of an official, now resembled a cold instrument of torture, making his face look ashen and withered, his expression emaciated, and his eyes sunken. It was as if all his energy had been drained overnight, aging him by more than ten years.

The veins on his forehead were still throbbing, like an earthworm struggling for its last breath.

Sheng Hong stared blankly at the flickering candlelight ahead, his empty eyes filled with a raging fire that had not yet been extinguished, a deep-seated shame, and a bottomless despair and disappointment, like a dry well.

The glaring dark red bloodstain on the front of the official's robe was like a huge, indelible brand of shame.

Mo Lan was held down like a pair of iron clamps by two burly, strong women with expressionless faces, as if they were stone sculptures, and forced to kneel on the cold, hard, iron-like blue brick floor.

She had changed back into her own clothes, but her hair was loose and messy, with a few strands of sweaty hair sticking awkwardly to her pale forehead.

His face no longer bore any trace of the pitiful fragility or desperate madness he had deliberately created in the cave; only an almost numb, deathly calm remained, with even a faint, imperceptible trace of cold indifference after his triumph lingering at the corner of his mouth.

She lowered her eyelids, as if the surrounding thunder and storm had nothing to do with her, and was immersed in the afterglow of her "victory".

A deathly silence enveloped the ancestral hall, so heavy it was suffocating. Only the occasional faint crackling of the burning candles made the space seem even more empty, like a tomb.

With the help of Madam Wang, who was crying and wailing incoherently, Old Madam Sheng arrived as quickly as possible, leaning on a sandalwood cane and almost half-carried by Mama Fang.

The old lady's face was ashen, all her usual grace and kindness gone, replaced by a furious rage and deep worry, her brows etched with deep lines. She didn't even glance at Mo Lan kneeling on the ground; her gaze, sharp as lightning, first swept over the glaring bloodstain on Sheng Hong's chest and his deathly pale face, her pupils contracting sharply before settling on the ancestral tablets that symbolized the Sheng family's century-long reputation, now seemingly tarnished. The veins on the back of her hand gripping her cane bulged, her knuckles turning white from the force.

Taking advantage of the fact that Old Madam Sheng had just regained her footing and was still catching her breath, Sheng Hong used the last of his strength to wave his hand wearily, his voice hoarse like the scraping of a broken gong: "Get down...all of you get down...guard the door...no one is allowed to approach within ten steps! Anyone who violates this rule...will be beaten to death!"

Dong Rong's heart skipped a beat. He immediately bowed and accepted the order, leading all the servants, including the two old women who were holding Mo Lan, out silently in single file.

The heavy door slammed shut with a creak, the sound of the bolt striking the floor clear in the deathly silence, completely isolating the inside from the outside and cutting off any possibility of prying in.

Inside the ancestral hall, only Sheng Hong, Old Madam Sheng, Madam Wang, and... Mo Lan, kneeling on the ground like a puppet, remained.

The candlelight cast long shadows of the four people onto the cold ground and walls, like menacing ghosts.

A deathly silence descended once more, heavier than before, so profound that one could almost hear the suppressed breathing and heartbeats of others.

"Shh!"

Sheng Hong's gaze, like a cold, rusty iron cone, carrying immense weight, slowly rose and fixed itself on Mo Lan's lowered head, as if to nail her soul to the ancestral tablet, so that she could never rise again.

The hatred in his eyes was almost tangible.

After a long time, so long that the flickering candlelight seemed to dim, so long that Madam Wang could no longer help but shiver, he finally managed to squeeze out a hoarse, weary voice from his cracked, bleeding lips, each word sounding as if he had exhausted the last of his life force.

"You wretched child...you...you...what else do you have to say?"

Mo Lan's body trembled almost imperceptibly, but she kept her head down, silent as the most stubborn stone.

"say!!"

Sheng Hong slammed his hand on the armrest of the chair, making a dull thud that affected his internal organs. He coughed violently again, and bright red blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, dripping onto his blood-stained shirt.

Wang Ruofu was so frightened that she let out a soft "Ah!" She wanted to go forward but dared not, and was at a loss for what to do.

"Heh..." Mo Lan finally let out a very soft, mocking laugh. She still didn't look up, her voice was terrifyingly calm, carrying a numb sense of despair and a hint of smugness: "Father... what else do you want to hear from your daughter?"

"Haven't we said everything that should be said... and shouldn't have been said...? Our daughter is behind the mountain... Haven't we said it all?"

Her tone was flat: "My daughter... has nothing to say."

"you!--"

Sheng Hong was so angry that he saw stars before his eyes, his blood was churning, and he almost fainted.

"enough!"

Grandma Sheng slammed her cane down with a loud thud, like a thunderclap, which instantly suppressed Sheng Hong's anger and Mo Lan's nauseating indifference.

The old woman's voice was as cold as frost, her gaze as sharp as a knife. When she swept over Mo Lan, it was as if she were looking at something filthy. Finally, her gaze landed on Sheng Hong, who was barely holding on: "Now is not the time for questioning!"

"This is no time for vomiting blood, harming oneself, or losing one's composure!"

"Hong'er, calm yourself down! The Sheng family's sky hasn't fallen yet! And it absolutely cannot fall!"

She took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing her surging emotions and the anger that was about to burst forth, and her eyes instantly became extremely serious and clear.

The ruthless decisiveness of the daughter of a long-established noble family was fully revealed at this moment.

"The most urgent task is to plug this huge hole! We must nip this shocking scandal in the bud, which could destroy the Sheng family's century-old reputation, ruin your career, make Hualan unable to hold her head up in her husband's family, damage the future of Changbai's sons, and even implicate and tarnish the marriages of Rulan and Minglan!"

"Not even a whisper can get out!"

Her words struck Sheng Hong and Wang Ruofu like a heavy hammer.

Wang Ruofu turned pale with fright and nodded repeatedly.

Grandma Sheng turned her gaze to Mo Lan, who lay on the ground like a walking corpse, her eyes filled with utter disgust. Yet she had no choice but to confront this mess she had created. Her voice was devoid of warmth, only a cold confirmation, as if she were interrogating a criminal!
"Young Master Liang of the Yongchang Earl's Mansion... he touched you, didn't he?"