Mistaken Intrusion and the Mystery of the Lost Heir

Sometimes what’s said casually means everything to the listener. As soon as Serena Feng returned to Feng Manor, she started plotting how to find the late Duke Ward’s original duchess’s child—or any descendants.

That child was only five years old back then; now he’d be nearly forty. If he had children, they’d probably be about Serena’s age.

If she could find that child, she wouldn’t even have to lift a finger—she could crush everyone in the House of Duke Zhen to dust.

Early in the dynasty, rules might have been loose, but after thousands of years, the idea of orthodox, main-line inheritance is deeply rooted. It’s not something that changes overnight. If she can find the late Duke Ward’s original duchess’s child or descendants, she can claim the House of Duke Zhen’s title by law.

If she played this card right, it would be a true bloodless kill—but first, she had to find the House of Duke Zhen’s rightful heir.

The incident happened so long ago, and with so many people in the capital, finding one person wouldn’t be easy. Besides, that old witch in the House of Duke Zhen surely wouldn’t have let the child survive—who knows if he’s even alive.

Of course, even if she couldn’t find the heir, it wouldn’t matter. There were so many suspicious points in the old House of Duke Zhen case—if she could dig up anything solid, that old witch would be finished.

Serena Feng circled and sketched out her plans in her room, getting ready to visit Thunderclap Monastery as Wang Qi suggested—maybe she’d get lucky and find something.

Serena used to be an atheist, but dying and coming back to life had changed her beliefs. At Thunderclap Monastery, she knelt solemnly before the Buddha, praying for a safe and healthy life.

Thunderclap Monastery was just a small, rather run-down temple with sparse incense offerings and a faint air of decline. After Serena made a generous donation, she was allowed to rest in a side room in the rear courtyard.

Led by the young novice, Serena Feng crossed the courtyard and arrived at a small wooden hut by the back mountain. The hut was simple but very clean. Serena glanced around, finding nothing unusual. (If there was anything unusual, she wouldn't discover it only now.)

"Please, benefactress." The young novice pressed his palms together, a hint of joy on his face.

Monks eat grains just like anyone else; faced with a generous donor like Serena, how could he not be pleased? With just a few like her each year, they could eat and sleep well.

Money can make even ghosts work for you—it's a good thing. Seeing the novice's reaction, Serena feigned curiosity and asked, "Little master, does the temple accept pilgrims for long stays?"

The young novice was briefly stunned, then shook his head. "Benefactress, Thunderclap Monastery does not accept long-term pilgrims. The side rooms by the back mountain are only for brief rests."

"Why not? Even if I donate incense money to the temple?" Serena feigned anxiousness.

The young novice still shook his head, scratching his head. "No, it's not allowed. As for why, I don't know either. It's a rule set by the abbot. Apparently something happened years ago, so now pilgrims can't stay long. Oh, by the way, benefactress, don't go near the bamboo grove behind the temple. The abbot says it's used to suppress evil, and anyone who enters can't come out alive."

The young novice spoke seriously, as if to prove he wasn't exaggerating.

"Thank you, little master, I understand. I'll rest briefly and then leave. I won't cause any trouble for your temple." Serena replied with a bright smile, hiding the sharp look in her eyes.

She hadn't expected to find anyone on her first visit, but after hearing the young novice's words, Serena was quite pleased—Thunderclap Monastery really did have its secrets.

The young novice nodded, then, realizing he’d said too much, whispered, “Benefactress, please don’t tell anyone I told you about the bamboo grove. The abbot forbids us to speak of it.”

"Alright," Serena agreed. But as soon as the novice left, she grabbed her gun and headed straight for the bamboo grove.

Anyone with brains could tell that place was strange. Since she’d come, of course she had to investigate.

Her footsteps rustled on the bamboo leaves. As soon as Serena stepped into the grove, she felt a wave of yin energy—the bamboo leaves were utterly still, not even the wind could get in. It felt like another world.

What is this place? Why is the yin energy so strong? Are there a lot of dead bodies here? But that can’t be—if there were, I’d sense it outside, and there’s no smell of corpses here.

Serena knew that if too many bodies were buried in one place, the surrounding magnetic field would be affected, growing cold and eerie—just like a graveyard, where the temperature is a few degrees lower than outside. If you stay too long in such a place, your body can’t take it.

But why would the back of the temple have such strong yin energy? And only in the bamboo grove? Was it man-made? Is this the legendary formation—a gathering-yin array? Serena paced back and forth, but kept seeing the same few bamboo stalks. They seemed different, yet somehow the same.

Serena couldn’t tell if the grove was just too big, or if there really was some kind of formation at work. Her scalp tingled, she swallowed hard, gripped her handgun tightly, and started to regret her bravado.

She was almost certain now—someone had really set up a formation in this bamboo grove.

Damn... Ancient times really aren’t easy. She’d thought all those tales of formations and battle arrays were just legends—turns out, they’re real.

She entered the bamboo grove thinking like a modern person—believing that even if there was a master hidden here, her gun would be enough to survive, if not win. She forgot that the wisdom of the ancients far surpassed mere gunpowder.

If someone really set up a formation in this grove, she was doomed—she knew nothing about the five elements or the eight trigrams. But regret was useless now; the yin energy was overwhelming. After just fifteen minutes, Serena felt chilled to the bone—any longer and she’d be half dead.

Yin energy invading the body—Western medicine can’t treat that.

“Quinn, the woman you’re interested in really is extraordinary—she actually found this place.” Outside the grove, Storm Cloud Bu teased Lance Quinn.

The moment Serena entered the grove, both men noticed. Seeing it was her, they could only smile wryly.

Serena was lucky to run into both of them here—otherwise, stepping into the grove would have been a death sentence.

Lance Quinn’s master had set up the Ninefold Death-Chill Array in the bamboo grove, channeling yin energy inside. Anyone who got lost in the grove would have yin seep into their body, grow cold, and eventually become muddled—then, under the array’s influence, face their deepest fears, torturing themselves to death.

“She went to the House of Duke Zhen,” Lance Quinn explained why Serena was here.

Watching Serena wander in circles, lips turning purple from the cold, Lance Quinn showed no sympathy—this woman was always asking for trouble, drawn to danger wherever it was.

“She’s discovered my identity?” Storm Cloud Bu’s face changed, killing intent rising.

If that was the case, Serena couldn’t be allowed to live. Storm Cloud Bu glanced at Lance Quinn, trusting he wouldn’t ignore his concerns for the sake of a woman…