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The night was silent in the main courtyard of the Li residence.
Su Wan'er’s coffin lay quietly in the hall, draped in a light silk canopy. The flickering candlelight cast a faint shadow over the offerings and belongings placed before her.
In the mourning hall, Qing Xing had cried herself hoarse, while Zhao Ziming stood outside the door, his expression vacant.
His hands gripped his sleeves tightly, knuckles turning white from the pressure, yet his gaze remained fixed on the plain coffin.
Li Lingfeng knelt before her, motionless.
His figure appeared even more gaunt than usual; his blue robe and black cloak were tattered, and his hair was slightly disheveled by the night breeze, giving him a disheveled and despondent look.
An iron fan lay discarded beside him, and a long sword rested at his side. Only his eyes had lost their former sharpness, now reduced to a dull gray.
Everything was eerily still.
Only the candle wax dripped slowly, accompanied by the faint crackling of the flame.
Li Lingfeng's throat tightened; he wanted to cry out, to scream, to release all his pent-up emotions, but no sound escaped him.
Su Wan'er lay peacefully beneath her canopy, her face serene and gentle.
"Su Wan'er," he called softly, his voice choked with emotion.
There was no response.
He reached out, wanting to caress her brow and eyes, but as soon as his fingers brushed against the silk canopy, he abruptly withdrew them.
Fearing that his touch might disturb her final peace, he whispered her name softly, “Su Wan'er…”
He remembered her smile—so gentle, so warm.
He recalled her delicate fingers, which had once brewed medicine for him and draped a cloak over his shoulders on cold winter nights.
Even amidst the rumors and gossip, she quietly stood by his side, enduring isolation and humiliation without a single complaint.
But what had he done?
He could hardly bear to remember how he had pushed her away recently, how he had treated her coldly in front of servants, guests, and Mei Ruolan, scolding her and stripping her of her last shred of dignity.
He had once thought he was protecting her, shielding her from the whispers of the world. But what was the reality?
Li Lingfeng's hand slowly rose, only to fall back down stiffly.
His eyes were dry; not a single tear could escape them.
“Why didn’t you wait for me?” he murmured. “Why did you just… leave?”
His voice carried a tearing pain, as if he were trying to split himself open.
He finally understood that all those so-called family legacies, societal expectations, and the gaze of others meant nothing to him.
Su Wan'er was truly his greatest concern, the one he held closest to his heart.
Qing Xing stood by, softly sobbing, her voice intermittent as she feared disturbing the tranquility of the spirit before them.
"My lord..." she said in a hushed tone, "Madam... she really cannot hold on any longer. These past few days... she has been waiting for you to look back at her just once."
Li Lingfeng suddenly turned his head, his eyes bloodshot.
"I have always been in the residence," he shouted, "Why wouldn’t she say a word to me? Why wouldn’t she tell me anything?"
Tears streamed down Qing Xing's face again, her voice weak. "Madam is afraid of burdening you... She said that since her husband has turned his affections elsewhere, she would no longer speak of it. All she hopes for is that you can be well and keep the Li residence afloat... She truly... has not asked for anything more..."
Li Lingfeng's fingers clenched tightly around his knees, his knuckles turning white.
"I have not turned my affections!" he growled through gritted teeth, each word heavy with conviction. "I have not! I... I only..."
Only followed her wishes, allowing Mei Ruolan to step by her side in the residence; only foolish enough to let Su Wan'er feel so alone and helpless until the very end.
His mind was a chaotic whirl.
He remembered the last time Su Wan'er looked at him; there was no resentment, no anger in her gaze—only a stillness as deep as stagnant water and a desolation that pierced his heart.
He recalled her gently saying, "My dear husband, if there is a next life, may you no longer be burdened by the affections of this world."
At that moment, he hadn’t understood the meaning behind her words, thinking she was merely being her usual gentle and considerate self, never truly willing to part from him.
But now, he could only weakly grasp her cold hand, whispering repeatedly to her lifeless body, "Su Wan'er, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I failed you, I caused you harm, and now... I can never see you again..."
Qing Xing cried to the point of near fainting, while Zhao Ziming outside the door offered quiet comfort, yet ultimately could not change anything.
Li Lingfeng's voice gradually faded.
"I always thought that by staying by your side, I could endure it all."
He murmured, "But now that you are gone, I realize—I have nothing left. The Li estate, family fortune, reputation—none of it compares to your gentle words..."
Suddenly, he stood up and staggered toward the coffin, kneeling heavily on the ground.
"Su Wan'er," his voice was hoarse, "do you know? I regret it. I regret not holding you tightly that day, regret not protecting you until the end."
His forehead struck the ground before the spirit tablet with a dull thud.
Qing Xing rushed over, choking back sobs as she pulled him back. "My lord, if the lady knows in the afterlife, she won't blame you. She left in peace; please... don't do this..."
Li Lingfeng seemed not to hear her at all, bowing his head repeatedly until blood seeped from his forehead without him noticing.
His heart was filled with regret and self-reproach.
All those cold words, icy gazes, and suppressed silences from the past transformed into knives at this moment, stabbing into his heart one by one.
At this moment, he finally understood that the deepest feelings of his life had long been tied to that gentle woman.
But he pushed her to a dead end, forcing her into a corner with no way out.
The night wind swept through the hall, flickering the candles in the mourning chamber.
He slowly raised his head, staring at the coffin, tears silently streaming down his cheeks.
"Su Wan'er, I love you. I have never regretted marrying you, even without children, even if our family fortune is lost. All I wanted was to live a simple life with you. But now... I have nothing left."
Qing Xing cried even harder. Zhao Ziming could no longer hold back; he stepped forward quickly and knelt beside Li Lingfeng.
"Brother," his voice was filled with suppressed pain, "with Su Wan'er gone, you... must still hold on. If Su Wan'er has a spirit in the heavens, she would want you to live well."
Li Lingfeng shook his head, his voice heavy with despair: "I can't hold on anymore, Zhao Ziming. For all these years, I relied on Su Wan'er's gentleness to support me. Now that she's gone, I..." He suddenly stopped, a lump forming in his throat, leaving him speechless for a long moment.
Zhao Ziming remained silent for a moment before suddenly speaking softly: "Before Su Wan'er passed away, she entrusted me with a letter meant for you. She asked me to give it to you after she was gone."
Li Lingfeng abruptly looked up, his eyes filled with a mix of madness and hope.
"A letter? She still has a letter?"
Zhao Ziming slowly took out a plain piece of stationery and handed it over with both hands.
Li Lingfeng trembled as he accepted it, his fingertips shaking uncontrollably.
He opened the envelope, revealing Su Wan'er's elegant handwriting on the paper:
"Li Lingfeng, I hope this letter finds you well. I know I am foolish and unable to bear heirs for the Li family, which is indeed a grave sin. However, in this life, to have served by your side is already a blessing beyond measure. My departure is not out of resentment towards you, nor do I blame others; it is simply that my heart and strength are exhausted, and I can no longer endure. I only wish for you to take care of yourself and not to blame yourself for my sake. If there is a next life, may we live without worries and be an ordinary couple once more. Yours sincerely, Su Wan'er."
Li Lingfeng's fingers clenched tightly around the letter, crumpling its edges. Tears finally surged down his face, soaking the words.
"Su Wan'er, Su Wan'er..." he repeated over and over, his voice filled with pain that seemed to tear through the night.
Zhao Ziming lowered his head, silently accompanying him, while Qing Xing knelt before the spirit tablet, weeping sorrowfully.
Outside the mourning hall, Mei Ruolan stood quietly under the eaves, her expression complex.
A flicker of turmoil crossed her eyes, but she merely sighed softly before turning and disappearing into the night.
Li Lingfeng knelt before Su Wan'er’s spirit tablet, crying out in anguish.
Regret washed over him like a tide, engulfing him entirely.
"Su Wan'er, I was wrong... I was truly wrong..."
He murmured again and again in a low voice.
In a haze of regret and realization, Li Lingfeng held the warm letter tightly, tears streaming down his face as he could no longer contain himself.
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