The Marquis Mansion's Elite Class-Chapter 342

The public notice was detailed, placing all blame on Fan Ding's meticulous schemes, redirecting the people's fury over the court's wrongful accusation of Chancellor Yan entirely onto Fan Ding.

"So that high-ranking official arrested that day was Fan Ding? That old villain dressed so lavishly—where was the slightest hint of integrity?"

"Twelve years of wrongful accusations… Heavens, I still remember Chancellor Yan visiting us during the disaster back then. Such a high-ranking official, yet he personally came to this shabby place, dressed plainly—clearly a good man."

"Chancellor Yan bore this slander for so many years, never understanding what he had even embezzled… I could cry myself to death. How could someone as wicked as Fan Ding exist? When will that old villain be executed?"

"After autumn harvest, after autumn harvest. Once the harvest is done, we’ll all come to watch that old villain meet his end. If I get the chance, I’ll kick him a few times myself!"

"Yes, we must see him die with our own eyes. Only then will our anger be quelled, and Chancellor Yan’s spirit be at peace."

"Chancellor Yan, a righteous man, may you rest in peace…"

……

After reading the notice, the people’s initial indignation turned to open weeping for Chancellor Yan’s injustice—tears of both joy and sorrow.

Not far away, the Yan family’s remaining members stood in a corner, sobbing uncontrollably. They wept for Chancellor Yan’s belated vindication, and for the fact that his innocence had come too late.

Even though the Zong family had arranged better accommodations for them, even though their living conditions now surpassed what they had when Chancellor Yan was alive, this material comfort could not overshadow the despair and grief.

What pained them most was that all the elders and male members of their family were gone. Twelve years ago, the Yan family had fallen completely, never to rise again.

Zong Wenxiu didn’t know what to say either, silently standing beside his mother and aunts, his heart heavy.

——

General’s Manor

The old marquis and his wife personally oversaw the revision of the Zong Die, changing Baili Weihong’s name back to Yan Suxue, officially recorded as Zong Yan’s lawful wife.

The old lady couldn’t bear to look at Zong Yan’s memorial tablet. Once the Zong Die was amended, she fled the scene as if escaping.

After they left, Zong Zhao entered, picked up a cloth, and meticulously wiped the tablet clean. The smaller inscription read, "Second Son of the Zong Family’s 19th Generation," while the larger characters declared, "Memorial of Zong Yan."

As he cleaned, he recalled the night before their departure for war—the weather had been fine, and sixteen-year-old Zong Yan, too excited to sleep, had squeezed into his bed, chattering endlessly. Though they were twins with different appearances, they had always been close.

Zong Yan had idolized him since childhood, always bombarding him with questions: "Brother, do you think this campaign will go smoothly? I heard the enemy’s new general isn’t as capable as the last. Could we become legendary generals like Luo Jingfeng, revered by the entire army?"

Luo Jingfeng’s refusal to relinquish military power had made the emperor wary, but his achievements were undeniable. Every soldier and Martial Academy disciple dreamed of becoming the next Luo Jingfeng.

Zong Zhao replied earnestly, "Unlikely. An easy victory means the glory won’t match Luo Jingfeng’s—the merit simply isn’t comparable."

Zong ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‍Yan’s enthusiasm dimmed for only a second before flaring again: "That’s fine! You’re the top scholar in both civil and martial arts, brilliant in strategy and bravery. You’ll surpass Luo Jingfeng! And I have a feeling—this time, we’ll return triumphant!"

Zong Zhao thought so too, but he was naturally modest. "Just coming back alive is enough. The battlefield is merciless; blades and arrows have no eyes. Stay cautious."

Zong Yan rolled over, still buoyant. "Why fear? A soldier’s fate is to die in battle—even then, it’s a glorious sacrifice for the nation. Besides, I may not be as talented as you, but I’m still the Martial Academy’s top disciple, the dean’s pride! You’ve no idea how much the others admire me—just like I admire you!"

Zong Zhao grew drowsy from his brother’s chatter. "Sleep now. We report to camp at dawn. We’re not generals yet—can’t keep others waiting. Even with uncles and elders there, we must earn our own reputations."

"Right! We’ll rely on ourselves!" Zong Yan vowed. "When I return, I’ll don a general’s armor and show Mother—it’ll be the finest attire I’ve ever worn!"

……

Time flowed, and the world changed.

The youthful midnight talks of a decade ago had become mere memories. He… had failed to bring Zong Yan home.

Zong Zhao’s chest tightened as he remembered his brother’s proud declaration of dying for their country. The pain lingered, unrelenting. Innocent Zong Yan had never known—the ones who doomed them had always been their own.

He wiped the tablet over and over, as if the repetitive motion could soothe the hatred, the fury, the violence clawing at his heart.

——

Nightfall

The courtyard table was set, but Xu Wan waited in vain for Zong Zhao. Upon asking, she learned he had spent the entire day in the ancestral hall.

To the students of the elite class, the ancestral hall was where they knelt to write self-criticisms as punishment. But to Zong Zhao, it housed the tablets of his ancestors… and his brother.

The thought spurred Xu Wan to action.

Outside the hall, Cui Zhi and others stood guard. Xu Wan stepped inside quietly, finding Zong Zhao seated rigidly on a cushion, still clutching Zong Yan’s tablet and cloth.

Her heart sank, and she froze mid-step.

Everyone knew: of the Zong family’s two heirs sent to war, one had died, and one had vanished. Now the lost had returned, but the dead could not be revived.

Zong Yan was Zong Zhao’s younger brother. Failing to protect him must be his greatest pain and regret.

Xu Wan didn’t know how to comfort him. Words felt hollow.

Yet she approached slowly, knelt to meet his gaze, and said softly, "When Wenxiu was named the second branch’s heir two years ago, Mother-in-law told me about Zong Yan. He was lively, cheerful, and dearly loved, wasn’t he?"

Zong Zhao, who always answered her, remained silent this time, lost in sorrow.

Undeterred, Xu Wan continued, "No wonder Mother-in-law, so shrewd otherwise, was utterly fooled by Jin Cheng all those years. Her doting on him… some of it must have been meant for Zong Yan, don’t you think?"

Zong Zhao looked up. In the faint moonlight, her expression was gentle yet steadfast.

Xu Wan pointed to the sky. "They say the departed ascend to the heavens, becoming those glittering stars. They never truly leave—they watch from above, blessing those they love. That’s why people gaze at the stars and the moon… to see the ones they miss."