If you were cold and aloof in your past life, why are you crying in this one?

After the banquet, it was already late at night.

The emperor probably intended to make amends, and since Xi Jian had already left, the reward was given to Xi Lingxian.

Ten bolts of brocade, a jade ruyi, a pair of gold-inlaid jade hairpins, and a set of fine writing implements.

Xi Lingxian accepted the reward and thanked the emperor respectfully.

The carriage rumbled along, and the night wind slipped in through the gaps in the curtains. Xi Lingxian leaned against the carriage wall, her eyes closed, but her mind kept replaying the image of her father leaving the seat.

The carriage stopped, and a maid helped her out.

The lanterns in the front yard were still lit, their dim yellow glow swaying slightly in the night breeze.

"Has Father come back?" she asked.

The gatekeeper bowed and replied, "The master went to his study after returning to the manor and hasn't come out since."

Xi Lingxian's heart sank.

She stood in front of the hanging flower gate for a moment, but eventually changed direction and walked towards the front yard.

Peach Blossom called softly from behind, "Young lady, it's late—"

"You all go back first, I'll go check on my father."

She walked quickly, her skirt fluttering in the night breeze, her footsteps echoing clearly on the bluestone slabs in the quiet night.

When the servants in the front yard saw her, none of them dared to stop her.

The study door was ajar, and a faint light shone from inside.

Lingxian gently pushed open the door.

The study was very quiet, so quiet that you could hear the occasional soft popping of the candle flame.

The candle on the table was mostly burned, and a thick layer of candle wax had accumulated, casting a dim and yellowish glow.

She walked around the screen, then suddenly stopped.

Xi Jian sat in a chair behind his desk, holding a portrait in his arms.

The scroll was yellowed and the edges were worn, clearly having been handled countless times.

He lowered his head, gently stroking the figure in the painting with one hand, his movements extremely light and slow, as if touching something that would break at the slightest touch.

Looking at the portrait in her father's arms, Xi Lingxian felt a pang of sadness.

The mother in the painting is still very young, with a faint smile on her lips and a gentle gaze like the lake water in spring.

That was the mother in her father's memory, forever frozen in her prime, never growing old again.

Xi Jian's fingers rested on the eyebrows and eyes of the person in the painting, and his lips moved slightly.

That straight spine, which had never bent on the battlefield, was now slightly hunched, like an old tree bent by wind and snow.

"Ah Yuan..." he called softly, his voice hoarse as if it had been sanded, "Today someone... has a face that looks like yours."

His voice paused, and his Adam's apple bobbed.

"But that's not you, nobody is you."

Xi Lingxian's tears welled up instantly.

She stood behind the screen, biting her lip tightly to keep herself from making a sound.

Xi Jian seemed to sense something, and slightly turned his head.

"Who's there?"

Xi Lingxian sniffed and stepped out from behind the screen.

"Father, it's me."

Xi Jian paused for a moment, "Fanfan, it's so late, why aren't you resting yet?"

Xi Lingxian walked over, squatted down beside him, and looked up at him.

In the candlelight, the shadows of the father and daughter overlapped and were cast on the wall behind them, like two trees leaning on each other.

"Father," her voice was a little hoarse, "please don't be sad. If Mother were watching from heaven, she wouldn't want to see you so heartbroken."

Xi Jian looked at her, reached out, and gently touched her hair, his movements as light and careful as when he had stroked the portrait earlier.

"Fanfan is looking more and more like your mother," he said. "If your mother knew how beautiful her daughter is, she would be overjoyed."

Xi Lingxian's tears finally fell.

Xi Jian didn't say anything more, but gently put his daughter's head on his shoulder.

The candlelight in the study flickered, casting long, long shadows of the father and daughter.

"Father," she spoke first, her voice muffled, "today in court... that dancer, it was the Emperor's doing. From now on, people like her..."

Xi Jian gave a soft "hmm".

Xi Lingxian raised her head, "It's not just about stuffing people around you. What happened today with the Prince of Huainan's heir and the Wang family..."

Xi Jian's brows furrowed slightly.

"Father, now every family is eyeing the Xi family with hostility. There's no escaping this."

Xi Jian looked at her, his eyes filled with both heartache and helplessness.

Of course he knew. The Xi family now held military power, which the emperor feared and the powerful families were trying to win them over. And the marriage of a legitimate daughter was never just a marriage.

Xi Lingxian raised her head, her gaze calm.

"Father, do you hope that Lady Xi can rise to prominence and stand shoulder to shoulder with the Wang and Xie families?"

Xi Jian was stunned for a moment.

"My daughter is the eldest daughter of the Xi family, and her marriage cannot be arranged according to my own whims. Rather than waiting for others to choose, we should choose for ourselves. The Xiao family, the Xie family, the Wang family... we should choose the one that is most beneficial to the Xi family."

She paused, then lowered her eyes.

"My daughter has thought it through. If we don't talk about feelings, and just treat it as a job, she's confident that no matter who she marries, she can handle the housework, social obligations, and sharing her husband's burdens."

Xi Jian looked at her without saying a word for a long time.

He looked into his daughter's eyes, eyes that were so much like her mother's.

At this moment, there was no shyness in those eyes that a young girl should have when she talked about marriage, nor any longing or expectation for the future; there was only an overly calm, almost cruel, clarity.

His heart felt like it had been squeezed.

His daughter was only fifteen years old.

A fifteen-year-old girl should be thinking about what color her hair ornament will be tomorrow, she should be tossing and turning at night because of a young man's glance, and she should be dreaming of wearing a phoenix coronet and wedding robes and holding hands with her beloved.

But his daughter, speaking in a business-like tone, told him, "You can marry anyone."

Xi Jian suddenly felt a stinging sensation in his eyes.

He reached out and gently pressed his daughter's head back onto his shoulder, patting her back lightly, just like he used to lull her to sleep when she was little.

"Fanfan, listen to what your father has to say."

Xi Lingxian leaned on his shoulder without saying a word.

"I have wronged your mother in this life." Xi Jian's voice trembled slightly. "When she married me, the Xi family was not as powerful as it is today. She suffered and lived in fear with me. We finally made it, but she was gone. I often think that if I could do it all over again, I would rather give up this military power and this empty fame, as long as she is alive and well."

He placed his palm on the top of his daughter's head and gently stroked it.

"Fanfan, your father does not seek for the Xi family's glory to rival that of the Wang and Xie families, nor has he ever had such ambition."

Xi Lingxian raised her head and met her father's gaze.

In the candlelight, Xi Jian's eyes were red. He looked at his daughter and spoke slowly and deliberately:

"As your father, I only wish that you live a peaceful and happy life."

"Those empty titles and powers are all for show. The reason your father earns them is simply so that you can live a good life."

"As for marriage—" He paused, his gaze falling on his daughter's face with an undeniable firmness, "If you don't want to get married, I will support you for the rest of your life. If you want to get married, then marry the person you love."

Xi Lingxian's tears fell in a downpour.

Xi Jian didn't say anything, he just held her and patted her back gently.

The candlelight in the study flickered a few times, casting the shadows of the father and daughter onto the wall.

The portrait on the table lay there quietly, the woman in the painting still smiling gently.

*

On the carriage back to the mansion, Madam Yu remained silent.

The cool night breeze seeping in through the gaps in the carriage curtain caused the candlelight to flicker, casting her face in half-light and half-shadow, making it difficult to see clearly.

Xi Yao sat beside her, not daring to breathe loudly.

She stole a glance at her mother. Madam Yu sat upright, her back straight, her hands folded on her knees. In the flickering candlelight, her face was as white as a sheet of paper, and her lips were pressed into a thin line.

Xi Yao had never seen her mother look like this before.

She shrugged and swallowed back the words that were on the tip of her tongue.

The carriage stopped at the second gate. Madam Yu got out of the carriage and walked much faster than usual, her skirt fluttering in the wind she stirred up.

Xi Yao jogged after her mother, barely able to keep up.

The maids and servants along the way all lowered their heads and gave way when they saw her expression.

Once inside the main courtyard, Madam Yu slowed her pace.

She stood at the entrance of the main room, her gaze sweeping across the interior.

The lights were on, and the maids had already prepared hangover soup and hot tea; everything was in order.

"Get out, everyone."

The maids curtsied and filed out.

The door closed.

Only the mother and daughter remained in the main room.

Standing in front of the table, Yu suddenly reached out, grabbed one, and slammed it to the ground.

"boom--"

Porcelain shards flew everywhere, some even grazing the hem of Xi Yao's skirt, making her tremble with fright.

"Mother--"

"boom--"

The second teacup also broke.

Yu's hands were on the edge of the table, her knuckles were white, and her whole body was trembling.

"She's been dead for so many years, and you still can't forget her? What was so great about her anyway!"

Her voice was squeezed out of her throat, hoarse and sharp, like a string that had been stretched for too long snapping at this moment.

His chest heaved violently, and his breathing became rapid and heavy.

Xi Yao was so frightened that her face turned pale, and her lips trembled so much that she couldn't speak.

She looked at her mother, the mother who was always dignified and never showed her teeth when she smiled, but now looked like a female beast trapped in a cage.

Anger, resentment, and despair.

Yu turned around, leaning against the table, her whole body still trembling.

Her gaze was fixed on a certain spot in the void, as if she were looking at something. Her eyes were red, but there were no tears.

"How many years has she been dead?" Her voice suddenly lowered, almost as if she were talking to herself, "Ten years? Twelve years?"

She stretched out her fingers and counted them one by one, her fingers trembling.

"Twelve years. She's been dead for twelve years."

Her voice suddenly became shrill again, "I thought that after all these years, he would have forgotten her. I thought I had done enough, that he would eventually see me. But—"

Yu closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and when she opened them again, her eyes were filled with tears.

"But in front of everyone in the hall, he said that he only had one wife, Lady Han, in his heart..."

Her voice trembled, each word seeming to be ground out from between her teeth, "And what about me? What am I? What have I been all these years?"

Xi Yao cautiously stepped forward and tugged at her mother's sleeve: "Mother..."

Mrs. Yu looked down at her daughter, then suddenly reached out and gently touched her daughter's cheek.

Xi Yao stared at her blankly.

"What's so good about her..." she murmured again, her voice so hoarse it was almost inaudible, "Why... why can't she look at me?"

The main room fell silent, the broken porcelain shards on the floor reflecting the candlelight, like a shattered moon, cold and desolate.

I can't piece it back together no matter what I do.