Chapter 7: The Matriarch's Dilemma

"Xiangwan Ye, he has... died."

A hand gripped her arm, pulling her backward off the bed.

"No, no! It can’t be! It can’t be..."

Xiangwan Ye’s eyes lost focus as she stared at the lifeless body, shaking her head over and over. Suddenly, a surge of strength she didn’t know she had welled up inside her. She broke free from the person behind her and stepped toward the boy.

Her trembling hand reached out and gently pried open his eyelids. A shudder ran through her entire body.

Those eyes—completely unlike those of a living person—were black voids, lifeless pupils that seemed to swallow the last trace of warmth in the air, devoid of light, chilling to the bone.

The woman’s heart-wrenching wails slithered into every pore like cold snakes, raising goosebumps and squeezing tears from Xiangwan Ye’s bloodshot eyes, stinging so fiercely she struggled to breathe.

The woman clawed desperately at her clothes, shouting unintelligible words. Suddenly, a violent turmoil roiled in her stomach.

Xiangwan Ye covered her mouth, wrenching free from the woman’s grasp to stagger to the nearby sink, where she bent over and began violently retching. Her stomach spasmed relentlessly, as if an invisible hand was mercilessly ravaging it.

Eventually, she could vomit no more, but the dry heaves continued uncontrollably, as if trying to purge all the nausea accumulated over the past month because of Jin Yan Feng.

Her hands braced against the cold, white tiles, fingertips turning pale with tension.

She couldn’t understand why everything she loved and cherished slipped away from her in so many forms.

She had nothing left; the only thing she could do was heal and save lives. Yet, what was the result?

She still couldn’t save him. She had exhausted every ounce of strength, and all she was met with was death.

Suddenly, she realized that these dull twenty-one years had given her no meaning to live.

Ah no, there had been meaning once, but she let it go—it was no longer there.

She was born into a typical middle-class family, with doting but traditionally conservative grandparents.

Her parents were lifelong high school teachers devoted to education, and she had a loving older brother. But he disappeared when she was five, and her parents pinned all their hopes on her, demanding she become the best student in the entire school.

Thus, her childhood was extraordinarily expensive: cello, vocal lessons, art, calligraphy, public speaking, math Olympiad, martial arts...

She had no idea what "Tom and Jerry" was because her parents believed it held no educational value.

Her childhood memories were filled with shuttling between various classes, inexplicably becoming the model “perfect child” everyone compared others to.

But no one knew that when she caught a high fever during the fifth-grade final exam and accidentally placed second in her grade, her parents beat her for days, confining her indoors.

Beyond academics, her social circle was strictly controlled—no friendships beyond the top fifty students, none from rural families, none with ill-mannered or mischievous children...

She had rebellious thoughts at times, but after transferring schools for the third time, she gave up. Listening to her parents’ earnest lectures on “The Three Moves of Mencius’ Mother,” all she felt was endless exhaustion.

Living like this for so long, she developed a way to protect herself: don’t care, and you won’t become familiar; don’t become familiar, and you won’t invest heart; don’t invest heart, and you won’t get hurt. Indifference was the best defense—she stayed out, and no one got in.

Until she met Jin Yan Feng...

After an indeterminate time, her gaze refocused. She saw her reflection in the mirror, bloodstains marring her pale face, making her look unnaturally ghostly.

She propped herself up and turned on the tap, plunging her head into the cold water.

“Are you... alright?”

Suddenly, a passing nurse tapped her shoulder. “Your phone’s been ringing for a while.”

She felt like a drowning person hearing a voice from the shore, dim and distant.

After a long moment, Xiangwan Ye stood and wiped her face. Her fingers trembled as she pulled out her phone.

Huo Siqing...

Seeing the name, she closed her eyes and leaned weakly against the wall.

“Hello.”

“At the hospital?” Huo Siqing got straight to the point, too tired for pleasantries. “Half past twelve at Southwind Café.”

Xiangwan Ye glanced at the time—half an hour left—and responded with a brief “Okay,” then hung up without expression.

Southwind Café—the place where Huo Siqing had once trampled on her heart like mud.

It was a shop run by a manager of a celebrity senior, frequented by distinguished personalities. A single bottle of wine there could keep her from eating or drinking for quite some time.

Xiangwan Ye lowered her head and gave a bitter smile. What was meant to come had finally arrived. It was time to face it.

She arrived early, seated by the window in a second-floor corner of the café, watching people and vehicles navigate through gently falling snow. Her eyes were dull, devoid of color.

Click, click, click.

The sound of heels approached steadily. Xiangwan Ye faced away from the door; she didn’t want to watch that woman stride leisurely toward her, each step a declaration of her utter defeat.

The chair across from her scraped back. Xiangwan Ye looked up to see a face with delicate, taut features, impossible to place an age.

A pair of black sunglasses hid the eyes; lips were full and sensuous, tightly pressed, dressed elegantly without a hint of bulk despite the cold winter, exuding a dignified and commanding beauty that caught attention.

Jin Yan Feng’s unparalleled looks were largely inherited from his mother.

Huo Siqing said nothing, not even removing her sunglasses, sitting silently across from Xiangwan Ye and watching her.

Xiangwan Ye remained silent, returning the gaze evenly.

“With a face like that, no wonder my son was blinded at the time,” Huo Siqing said with a light laugh. “Though your complexion isn’t looking too good.”

Xiangwan Ye lowered her eyes slightly and sipped the warm milk tea before her, emotionless.

“Seeing you is hardly going to improve it.”

Huo Siqing didn’t get angry, instead shaking her head with a smile.

“Still so sharp-tongued.”

Xiangwan Ye had no energy left for verbal sparring. She took out a bank card and pushed it to the center of the table.

“This is the principal plus interest. Would you like me to show you the balance in person?”

Huo Siqing remained silent, neither speaking nor moving, as if waiting for something.

Xiangwan Ye didn’t think much of it. Her body was already at its limit; she just wanted to leave as soon as possible. She braced herself on the table and slowly stood.

“If there’s nothing else, I’ll be going. May we each walk our own paths in the future, never to meet again.”

Suddenly, Huo Siqing swiftly removed her sunglasses. Her eyes, full of emotion, instantly reddened, tears glistening at the corners. She reached out and grabbed Xiangwan Ye’s arm.