Becoming a literary master starting from the story of Minglan

Chapter 473 Mother and Son Plead for Mercy
Mo Lan, who was lying on the ground, shuddered violently upon hearing the name "Lin Qinshuang" as if she had been branded with a hot iron.
Upon hearing her father's cold and ruthless orders to "bring him out" and "send him to the woodshed," as well as the sound of the servants leaving outside the door, the fear brought by the threat of her grandmother's "sudden death" was instantly overwhelmed by a more primal and sharp despair!
That was her beloved mother, whom she depended on for survival!
She was the mistress who taught her scheming and planned her future!

Now they're going to treat them like the lowest of prisoners, taking them to the woodshed?!
"Little girl——!"

A shrill scream, so piercing it was almost inhuman, suddenly burst from Mo Lan's throat!

The voice was filled with unspeakable terror, despair, and desperate madness!

She suddenly sprang up from the ground with a burst of brute force from who knows where!

At this moment, Mo Lan didn't care about Sheng Hong and the old lady's expressions at all; she only had one thought in her mind—to stop them!
We can't let them take my young lady away!

She was like a mother beast driven to the brink of despair, her eyes bloodshot, rushing headlong toward the door!
"Stop her!"

Old Mrs. Sheng shouted sternly, her voice carrying a hint of barely perceptible shock and anger.

She never expected that this girl would still dare to be so crazy for Lin Qinshuang under the threat of "sudden death"!
The two burly old women guarding the door immediately stepped forward to stop them.

Mo Lan, seemingly insane, struggled and tore at herself desperately, crying out in a pitiful voice, "Mother! Mother! Let me go!"

"I want to see my stepmother! Father! Grandmother! Please! Let me see my stepmother! Please let me see my stepmother!!"

Her hair was completely disheveled in the struggle, her plain old clothes were torn open to reveal her equally plain inner garment, and her face was covered in snot and tears, mixed with dust. She was a mess and looked no more like a bride.

In those swollen, red eyes, only reckless madness and deep-seated fear remained.

She wasn't scheming, nor was she acting; this was a desperate, instinctive struggle born from being completely pushed to the edge of a cliff!

Sheng Hong was completely enraged by her sudden madness and her tearful cries of "little mother"!
Seeing his daughter lose her composure because of that poisonous woman was like the greatest irony of his past favoritism towards Lin Shi!
He stepped forward and, just as Mo Lan was about to break through the old woman's blockade, kicked her hard in the shoulder!
"Get out of here! You shameless wretch!" Sheng Hong's roar shook the roof, sending dust flying. He pointed at Mo Lan, who was kicked to the ground and curled up in pain, his eyes bloodshot. "You still have the nerve to call that poisonous bitch?! She hired someone to kill! She wanted to harm Chang Quan! The future hope of the Sheng family!"

"And what happened? By some twist of fate, the scalding oil spilled onto Changfeng's hands!" He pointed sharply to the door, his voice ripped apart by extreme anger and heartache. "Look at this!"

"Look what your good 'little sister' has done!"

As Sheng Hong roared, a figure was carefully helped in by a servant through the light and shadow at the doorway, moving very slowly, step by step.

It was Sheng Changfeng.

His face was ashen, like that of someone who had been ill for a long time. His lips were bloodless, and his forehead was covered in a fine layer of cold sweat, clearly indicating that he was enduring immense pain.

He seemed to have been completely drained of his energy and spirit; the former dashing demeanor of a young nobleman had vanished, leaving only an empty shell hollowed out by pain.

However, what was most striking was his right hand hanging at his side.

The hand was wrapped in layers of thick cotton cloth soaked in dark yellow medicine stains. Dried bloodstains were faintly visible through the edges of the cloth strips. The shape of the wrapping was strange and twisted, as if the bones and muscles inside had no shape and could only hang down helplessly and stiffly, like an object that had been roughly broken and pieced together.

Those once jade-like fingers, which held the brush and carried the hopes of the Sheng family's literary tradition, are now nothing but a shocking outline, a symbol of despair and ruin.

With each step he took, his body swayed slightly due to the pull of his right arm, and large beads of sweat rolled down his temples.

Sheng Changfeng looked at Mo Lan, who was lying on the ground in a disheveled state, clutching her shoulder and groaning in pain. His eyes were empty and numb, like a puppet that had lost its soul.

His gaze held no resentment or anger, only a deathly stillness of ashes, yet it was more chilling and terrifying than any harsh accusation.

The very appearance of Sheng Changfeng is a silent yet most powerful indictment.

"elder brother……"

Mo Lan looked at her own brother in front of her, at his crippled hand that was wrapped up like a monster, at the inhuman paleness and numbness on his face, and all her struggles and cries froze instantly!
The madness that had just erupted was extinguished instantly, as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over its head.

A cold, rusty fear surged up from her stomach, almost suffocating her.

She collapsed to the ground, like a rag doll whose soul had been ripped out. Even her trembling had stopped, leaving only her lifeless eyes fixed on Changfeng's crippled hand.

Why did you, young lady, target Changquan?! And why did the price you paid was so high?!
It was... his own brother's hand, that determined his entire future?!
The shock and guilt brought about by this realization instantly and completely broke her down.

“You…!”

Seeing Mo Lan's distraught state, Sheng Hong's anger intensified, and he was about to continue his tirade.

"Father!"

A weak yet exceptionally clear voice rang out, interrupting Sheng Hong's roar.

It was Sheng Changfeng who spoke.

His voice was hoarse and dry, carrying the weariness of a serious injury, yet it revealed an undeniable persistence.

Instantly, everyone's eyes were focused on him.

"Feng'er, you..."

Looking at his son's pale face and the shockingly mutilated hand, Sheng Hong's anger was forcibly suppressed, turning into a sharp pang of heartache and tenderness.

He rushed forward to help her up, saying, "You're so badly injured, how did you get up? Go back and rest!"

Sheng Changfeng turned slightly to avoid his father's support. He forced himself to stand up straighter, his gaze sweeping over the black orchids on the ground, which looked like clay sculptures and wooden carvings, before finally landing on Sheng Hong's face, his expression extremely complicated.

There was pain, hatred, despair at the ruin of his future, and an unspeakable struggle. “Father,” Changfeng’s voice was heavy with the gasps of his wounds, each word uttered with extreme difficulty, “Son…Son knows that my mother…committed a heinous crime.”

"To murder one's own children and nephews, to ruin the family's reputation, is an unforgivable crime..."

When he mentioned the word "little girl," his left arm, which was wrapped around his crippled hand, twitched almost imperceptibly, and the muscles on his face tightened, clearly indicating that he was experiencing intense inner turmoil.

He took a deep breath, as if using all his strength, before continuing, "But... Father, she is still... still my birth mother!"

These words seemed to have been ripped from the deepest part of his heart, carrying with them a bloody pain.

"Son...Son dares not ask Father to forgive her sins, nor does he dare to hope that she can stay in the Sheng family...Son only begs Father..." He paused, his voice lower, carrying a humble plea, "Father, please...please consider my hand...please consider the fact that she bore children for the Sheng family..."

"...Spare her life!"

“Send her...to a distant estate, or...or to a family temple for quiet contemplation...let her spend the rest of her life in seclusion, with only the flickering lamp and the ancient Buddha…”

"Father...please have mercy!"

After speaking, he bowed deeply, attempting to pay his respects, but the movement aggravated the injury on his right arm, causing him to groan in pain and sway violently, almost losing his balance.

The servant beside him hurriedly tried to support him.

In fact, Sheng Changfeng's plea was not out of forgiveness for Lin Qinshuang.

In the deathly ashes in his eyes, a deep-seated hatred for his birth mother burned clearly—hatred for her wickedness, hatred for her stupidity, and even more hatred for her for personally ruining his life!
He wished he would never see her again!

But the bond of blood and the last bit of reluctance he felt as a son compelled him to drag his broken body, endure the excruciating pain, and plead for a chance at life for her.

What he sought was not forgiveness, but a way to survive, and in doing so, he severed the last ties between the mother and son.

This plea for leniency is itself the cruelest form of separation.

Sheng Hong watched his son, who was enduring excruciating pain and was extremely weak, plead for that wicked woman. He saw his son's destroyed hand and heard the desperate filial piety wrapped in hatred in his words. The rage in his heart deflated like a punctured balloon, leaving only endless bitterness and exhaustion.

He opened his mouth, but felt something blocking his throat, and couldn't speak for a moment.

Yes, Feng'er... Feng'er is so innocent! He should have had a bright future... but now...

Just as the atmosphere in the hall became heavy and oppressive due to Changfeng's plea, Madam Wang, who had been observing coldly, spoke up at the opportune moment.

Her face was filled with sorrow and "understanding," and her voice carried a perfectly timed sigh of "fairness": "Alas! Feng-ge'er... you child, even though you're injured like this, you still think of me... you're so filial!"

She looked at Sheng Hong, then glanced at the distraught Mo Lan on the ground, and said earnestly, "Master, Feng Ge'er's words... Although Lin Qinshuang is guilty of heinous crimes, she is still Feng Ge'er's birth mother and Mo Lan's stepmother."

"If... if something really bad happens, the children will probably never be able to get over this hurdle in their hearts."

"How about... we do as Brother Feng says? We send her far away, never to see her again in this life! That would be the end of this... ill-fated relationship!"

She emphasized "never to see each other again," a glint of triumphant gleam in her eyes.

This made her feel even better than if she had just killed Lin Qinshuang!
Let her live, suffer in poverty and loneliness, and watch her own children treat her like a stranger. That would be the best punishment for her!

And this, in turn, fell right into Sheng Changquan's web of revenge, a web of "turning the tables"—

Let Lin Qinshuang live to taste the bitter fruit of her own actions, and in endless regret and loneliness, atone for the wrongful death of Wei Xiaoniang.

In the hall, Old Madam Sheng paused slightly, a hint of understanding flashing in her deep eyes.

She glanced at the weak yet stubborn Changfeng, then at the lifeless Molan on the ground, and finally her gaze settled on Sheng Hong. She didn't speak, but her silent gaze spoke volumes—

This matter should be decided by the head of the family.

Sheng Hong's chest heaved violently. He looked at Chang Feng's crippled hand and pale face, then at Mo Lan's empty and desperate eyes. Finally, his gaze fell on a point in the void, as if he saw Lin Qinshuang's face, which he once loved so much, but now only looked like a hideous, venomous woman.

After a long while, as if he had exhausted all his strength, he slowly closed his eyes, uttering a single word through clenched teeth:

"……allow."

This single word, heavy as a ton, sealed Lin Qinshuang's fate, condemning her to a life worse than death, and also shattered the last vestige of hope in Mo Lan's heart regarding "saving her mother."

Throughout the entire ordeal, Old Madam Sheng simply stared coldly at Mo Lan, who lay on the ground looking utterly dejected, as if her spine had been removed. Her face was devoid of joy or sorrow, displaying only a detached indifference that suggested she had seen through the ways of the world.

After a long silence, she finally spoke, her voice devoid of any warmth: "Drag her back to the boudoir. Lock the doors and windows. Before her marriage, she is not allowed to see anyone again, nor is she allowed to take a single step outside. If there is any further mishap..." The old lady's gaze swept over the old woman in charge of guarding her, icy cold, "You know the consequences."

The two burly women were startled by the old woman's gaze and dared not slacken their pace. They immediately stepped forward and, as if dragging a lifeless piece of cargo, ruthlessly lifted up the limp, lifeless Mo Lan with her empty, lifeless eyes.

Her body hung limply, her head tilted weakly to one side, and her once bright eyes were now filled with boundless emptiness and despair as she stared intently, yet without focus, in the direction of Changfeng's crippled hand.

In the end, that desperate gaze was completely swallowed up by the heavy, isolating doors of the embroidered tower.

……

Thank you to the great masters Tan Xiangyu and Yindun for their support!