Ji Qingyuan glared at her malevolently. "You have the nerve to come to Third Brother's mourning hall and offer incense?! He's dead because of you."
In the days since Ji Changyan's... incident, her mother, Ms. Wu, had seemed to lose her mind. Even Old Madam Ji, who doted on her most, had fallen ill.
Within a single month, the second branch of the family had fallen into such a state of decline.
But for the mother and daughter of the first branch, everything was as usual. Their lives were comfortable, and even at Ji Changyan's funeral, their faces showed no sign of grief.
Ji Qingyuan said hatefully, "How could the Ji Family have someone as cold-blooded as you!"
Ji Qingwu saw the deep resentment in her cousin's eyes and frowned. 'The dead deserve respect,' she thought, 'I don't want to start a fight here.'
She relaxed her shoulders, intending to appease her and let the matter drop.
But Ji Qingyuan suddenly rushed in front of her and grabbed her by the arm.
