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墨書 Inktalez
In the night, the Li Residence lay in complete silence.
Su Wan'er’s coffin rested quietly in the main hall, draped in a light silk canopy. The flickering candlelight cast faint shadows over the offerings and belongings placed before her.
In the mourning hall, Qing Xing had cried until her voice was 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 tousled by the night breeze, giving him a disheveled and despondent look.
The iron fan lay discarded beside him, and his sword rested at his side. Only his eyes had lost their former sharpness, now reduced to a dull gray.
Everything was utterly still.
The only sound was the soft dripping of candle wax, accompanied by faint crackles from the flames.
Li Lingfeng's throat tightened; he wanted to cry out, to scream, to release all of his emotions, but no sound escaped his lips.
Su Wan'er lay peacefully beneath the silk canopy, her face serene and gentle.
“Su Wan'er,” he called softly, his voice choked with grief.
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 recoiled sharply.
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 his true concern, the one he cherished most deeply.
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, "the lady... she truly cannot hold on any longer. These past few days... she has been waiting for you to turn and look at her."
Li Lingfeng suddenly turned his head, his eyes bloodshot.
"I have always been in the residence," he growled lowly, "why would she not speak to me more? Why would she not tell me anything?"
Tears streamed down Qing Xing's face again, her voice weak. "The lady is afraid of burdening you... She said that since her husband has turned his affections elsewhere, she will no longer say much. She only hopes 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 shouted through gritted teeth, each word heavy with conviction. "I have not! I... I only..."
Only followed her wishes, allowing Mei Ruolan to gradually move closer to her side; only foolishly let Su Wan'er feel so alone and helpless until the very end.
His mind was a chaotic swirl.
He remembered the last time Su Wan'er looked at him; there was no resentment, no anger in her gaze, only a stillness and desolation like stagnant water.
He recalled her gentle words: "My husband, if there is a next life, may you no longer be burdened by the affairs of this world."
At that moment, he had not understood the meaning behind her words, thinking she was merely as gentle and considerate as ever, believing she could never truly bear to leave 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 will never see you again..."
Qing Xing was crying to the point of near fainting, while Zhao Ziming outside the door offered quiet words of comfort, yet ultimately felt powerless to change anything.
Li Lingfeng's voice gradually faded.
"I always thought that as long as I stayed by your side, I could endure it all."
He murmured, "But now that you are gone, I realize—I've lost everything. The Li Residence, my family fortune, my reputation—none of it can compare to your gentle words..."
Suddenly, he stood up and staggered toward the coffin, dropping to his knees heavily.
"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 grabbed him. "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 again and again until blood seeped from his forehead without him noticing.
His heart was filled with regret and self-blame.
All those cold words from the past, the icy glances, the silence he had forced himself to endure—at this moment they transformed into knives, stabbing deep into his heart.
In this instant, 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 Residence, which is indeed a great sin. However, in this life, being able to serve my clumsy husband by his side is already a blessing beyond measure. My departure is not out of resentment towards my husband or blame towards others; it is simply that my heart and strength have been exhausted, and I can no longer hold on. I only wish for my husband to cherish himself and not to blame himself for me. If there is a next life, may we be carefree and live as an ordinary couple once more. Yours, Su Wan'er."
Li Lingfeng's fingers tightened around the letter, crumpling its corners. Tears finally surged down his face, soaking the words within.
"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 uncertainty 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, breaking down in tears.
Regret washed over him like a tide, drowning him completely.
"Su Wan'er, I was wrong... I was truly wrong..."
He murmured again and again in a low voice.
In his anguish and newfound understanding, Li Lingfeng held the warm letter tightly, tears streaming down his face as he could no longer contain himself.
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