"How dare you! Our Lin family is a noble house of princes and marquises, yet you have brought such disgrace upon us!"
"Lin Zhiqing, as a mere woman, how could you be so ruthless and cruel!"
"That was your cousin! You poisoned her, leaving her in a coma. Have you no regard for familial bonds?"
The sharp reprimands jolted Lin Zhiqing awake from her groggy state, her mind still foggy from pulling an all-nighter at work.
Where was she? Lin Zhiqing opened her eyes to find herself kneeling on the ground. She instinctively scanned her surroundings.
A grand hall.
At the head of the room sat a man on a redwood chair.
He had a stern face, a black beard, and a jade hairpin adorned his hair. His eyes, sharp and piercing, seemed to flash with thunder, instilling fear in anyone who met his gaze.
He sat at the center of the hall, flanked by rows of people on either side. Their expressions ranged from cold indifference to smirking amusement, some even reveling in her misfortune.
This is... Lin Zhiqing's eyes narrowed, and she quickly lowered her head to hide her shock.
If the man's attire was genuine, the ancient-style clothing he wore must have been exquisitely crafted, with silk and craftsmanship unlike anything she had ever seen.
And if the onlookers weren't actors, their emotions were undoubtedly real!
No!
There were no cameras, no director yelling "Cut."
Realizing that this wasn't a staged scene, Lin Zhiqing instinctively reached up to touch her face.
The smooth, delicate texture made her pause. No, this wasn't right—she had been breaking out from all the late nights at work. Her skin shouldn't feel this flawless!
She looked down at her hands—slender, well-defined, and clearly those of someone who had lived a life of privilege. These were not the hands of an overworked laborer like herself.
Putting it all together, she must have transmigrated into the body of a woman who shared her name.
But this transmigration was far too abrupt.
Lin Zhiqing searched her memories for any information about this unfamiliar place but came up empty.
The next moment, the stern, black-bearded man in the center flicked his sleeve and declared, "Hmph! Having committed such a grave crime, and with you remaining silent, I, Lin Congli, shall have you executed to appease the ancestors of the Lin family!"
Lin Zhiqing's eyes narrowed as she watched guards dressed in traditional attire approach her. She quickly composed herself.
The man named Lin Congli had accused her of a serious crime!
As a psychologist, Lin Zhiqing instinctively analyzed his microexpressions.
Microexpression psychology is the study of the subtle, involuntary expressions that reveal a person's true emotions. It is part of the broader field of psychological stress microreactions.
These expressions represent human instincts and are nearly impossible to fake or conceal.
For example, when people are afraid, their eyes widen involuntarily; when they are anxious, their gaze becomes erratic. These are universal human traits.
When analyzed in specific contexts and among particular groups, the accuracy of microexpression analysis can exceed 80%.
This is why law enforcement often uses microexpressions to interrogate suspects.
This is microexpression psychology!
At this moment, Lin Congli's anger was unmistakable—his brows furrowed, his expression cold. Yet, there was no trace of pity, regret, or disappointment in his demeanor.
This was pure, unadulterated rage!
But within that rage, Lin Congli's nostrils flared, and his brows twitched as if he were suppressing his fury.
He sat at the center, his expression stern, his hair perfectly groomed, and his clothing immaculate—clearly a man who valued propriety.
As the Xingju Shu: Zheng Guan states: "Not a single hair out of place, every thread in order."
When speaking to Lin Zhiqing, he was decisive and rigid, leaving no room for anyone else to interject.
This indicated that Lin Congli was the primary decision-maker here.
Anger, restraint, a focus on propriety, and...
Impartiality?
This was a potential opening... Lin Zhiqing felt a slight sense of relief.
It seemed that Lin Congli was angry about her actions, but his attitude toward her personally was still unclear.
What about the other onlookers?
From her brief recollection, the people around her mostly displayed disgust, mockery, and schadenfreude.
It seemed no one wanted her to live.
But she had to survive!
She had no memories of the original host, but she couldn't forget Lin Congli's words: "That was your cousin! You poisoned her, leaving her in a coma. Have you no regard for familial bonds?"
In this situation, there were only two possibilities.
One, the original host hadn't harmed her cousin and had been framed, sacrificed, or wrongfully accused.
Two, the original host had done it.
But regardless of which scenario was true, Lin Zhiqing had only one path to survival...
Denial!
Whether the original host had done it or not, she couldn't admit to anything!
With this in mind, Lin Zhiqing's eyes sparkled with determination. She raised her hand to stop the guards who were about to seize her:
"Wait!"
She slowly rose to her feet, brushing off her skirt. "I am innocent!"
Her voice was clear and firm, like a spring of fresh water.
The hall erupted in murmurs.
Hearing her words, Lin Congli's eyes narrowed, and a hint of suspicion appeared in his furious expression. "You claim innocence? If you are innocent, why did you poison your cousin?"
His tone was icy, devoid of any emotion. "Bring Bihuan forward!"
As soon as he spoke, a woman, beaten and bloodied, was dragged into the hall by two guards. She had clearly been tortured.
"Miss, I'm sorry," the woman avoided Lin Zhiqing's gaze. "The pain was too much... You shouldn't have poisoned the eldest miss..."
"You vile creature!" Lin Congli's expression remained cold, his eyes sharp. "Your personal maid has confessed that you ordered her to poison the pastries. How dare you still deny it!"
Lin Zhiqing's heart sank as she stared at Bihuan.
No wonder they were so certain she had harmed her cousin—they had a witness.
Her gaze hardened as she locked eyes with Lin Congli. "That's where you're wrong. To convict me based solely on this maid's testimony is hardly convincing."
"Why not let me confront her and clarify the truth? Otherwise, any stray dog could slander the Lin family."
Lin Zhiqing raised her voice, ensuring everyone in the hall could hear her.
Her words stirred the crowd, and whispers filled the room.
"Hmph!" Lin Congli's eyes narrowed slightly as he observed the shifting emotions of those around him. "Very well, I'll let you die with clarity!"
"Bihuan, recount the process of Lin Zhiqing ordering you to poison the pastries. Don't leave out a single detail!" His voice was emotionless, but Bihuan trembled uncontrollably.
She looked at Lin Zhiqing, her expression pained. "Miss, just confess..."
Before she could finish, Lin Zhiqing interrupted with a frown. "Explain everything clearly. Why would I poison my cousin?"
Bihuan was taken aback. Something about the miss seemed different, but she didn't dwell on it. Instead, she wiped her reddened eyes and began:
"Today is the anniversary of your father's death. You ordered me to buy paper money and secretly burn it. Afterward, you locked yourself in your room..."
Before Bihuan could finish, Lin Congli's expression darkened.
The crowd erupted in outrage.
"Your father was a traitor! He's been dead for over five years, yet you dared to burn paper money for him? Are you trying to bring ruin upon the Lin family?"
"How disgraceful! Utterly disgraceful!"
"A father who committed treason, and a daughter who shamelessly honors him. Truly, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree!"
Lin Zhiqing didn't miss the crucial information in their words.
Treason—what a grave accusation!
[--------------------------------------------]
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