The head of the household, now thirty, remained unmarried due to his terrible reputation and ruthless methods. He was the head of the Jin Yi Wei, the Imperial Guard, a high-ranking official among high-ranking officials.

Others might not have felt it, but when Lin Zhaoxue first entered the household, the head of the household’s reputation wasn’t so bad; he even had a bit of a heroic reputation.  As a young girl, Lin Zhaoxue even somewhat admired him.

Adhering to the principle of maintaining good relations as the mistress of the household, Lin Zhaoxue took the initiative to greet him.

As a result, she happened to stumble upon him killing someone.

He turned his head, his face covered in bloodstains.

He coldly spat out a vicious threat: “Shut up, or you want to die?”

He looked at her like she was a dead thing.

Beside him was Ding Huanhua, weeping.

Lin Zhaoxue was startled and said with a forced smile that she had disturbed them.

She immediately understood their relationship, guessing that he had killed the man to stand up for Ding Huanhua.

Good heavens, the head of the household was on Ding Huanhua’s side!

She had also, in a way, “stolen” Ding Huanhua’s marriage.  So he wouldn’t…

Coupled with the shocking scene of murder, the impact on a newlywed girl was simply traumatic, leaving her deeply scarred.

From then on, she avoided him as much as possible, trembling whenever she saw him.

Now, she was about to die, and she had to see him again.

Lin Zhaoxue sighed.

She had seen everyone, even the Yama (King of Hell), but…

Her gaze finally shifted away from the doorway.

Li Yanyong wouldn’t come.

Lin Zhaoxue had lost all hope; her heart had completely died.

The breath she had been clinging to was gone, and she could no longer hold on.

She had endured for too long, too hard.

Her already dull eyes closed.

Before the last glimmer of light faded from her sight—

From the corner of her eye, she suddenly saw a familiar figure in simple, plain clothes.

One step, two steps.

He came to her bedside.

Everyone in the grand mansion was exceedingly wealthy, eager to flaunt their riches, but only one person would wear such simple, unadorned robes.

Only her husband, Li Yanyong.

Li Yanyong always disliked the fuss of luxurious, gold-threaded clothing, as it hindered his work.

In her peripheral vision.

She vaguely noted his simple robe, with a few ink stains on the fabric. His skin was exceptionally pale, and his eyes were slightly dark under the eyes.

A closer look would reveal his stunning beauty, ethereal and captivating enough to steal one’s heart forever.

His lips were like jade petals, his eyes like ink, like a small bodhisattva raised on grass and trees, each step a blooming lotus flower.

He had come.

Li Yanyong had come.

Her husband had come.

Lin Zhaoxue felt relieved.

Much of the resentment in her heart dissipated.

But not long after feeling relieved, she felt uneasy again.

It wasn’t yet time for his official visit.

He must have come to see her one last time, knowing she was dying.

Or perhaps he simply didn’t want to come back to see her.

He probably had grown tired of her long ago, and only came out of politeness.

But Li Yanyong’s reaction seemed different from what Lin Zhaoxue expected.

When others were consoling Li Yanyong not to be too sad—

He didn’t pretend to be sad out of politeness, nor did he shirk responsibility.

Li Yanyong’s eyes, as still and clear as a pool, reflected Lin Zhaoxue’s gaunt and miserable appearance.

She was clearly a woman who had suffered greatly over the years.

After a long time, just before Lin Zhaoxue lost consciousness—

She heard Li Yanyong, the once proud and unyielding noble son, earnestly say:

“It’s my fault. I neglected her.”

Lin Zhaoxue passed away.

Her eyes were tightly closed in death.

Yet, two lines of tears flowed down her face, silently rolling onto the pillow.

Because she knew that Li Yanyong was a man who valued his promises; he would never admit fault unless he truly felt he was wrong.  Once he admitted fault, he would make amends completely and thoroughly.

This was the one thing she most wanted to hear in her life.

She wished he could see her, understand her suffering!

But he changed his mind, and she was already dead.

*

Li Yanyong stood in the room he hadn’t entered in a long time.

Everyone around him was mourning.

He, however, remained calm.

Who made him realize that Lin Zhaoxue was gone?

It was the head of the Li family, Li Yanyong’s uncle.

After Lin Zhaoxue passed away, he left quickly, finding it troublesome.

The head of the household was the first to leave.

Since he wasn’t familiar with Lin Zhaoxue, he only came because the mistress of the household had died.

Tall and imposing, with a cold and strong aura, he glanced at Li Yanyong as he approached.

“This girl was a lively and bright young lady before she married into the family. How did she become like this?”

“As the heir of the Li family, you should reflect on this.”

*

During the Spring Equinox, it was the fourth anniversary of Lin Zhaoxue’s death.

A new bride married into the Li family.

The head of the Li family heard this, waved his hand, and didn’t appear.

Lin Zhaoxue felt the weight of a luxurious quilt, with exquisite litchi patterns embroidered with gold thread.

Silky smooth.

No.

She had sensation.

Lin Zhaoxue moved her ears.

She immediately jolted.

She lifted her heavy eyelids—

And was startled by what she saw.

She met the cold gaze of the head of the Li family.

This was the person she feared most in her life.

The head of the household sat on a low stool, holding medicine, his feet resting on a low footstool.

He calmly looked away from her, glancing at her indifferently.

He scoffed: “Right, it’s about time you woke up.”

“Head of the household.”

Lin Zhaoxue was a little dazed, but instinctively cowered before him, obediently addressing him, swallowing her saliva.

Wasn’t she completely dead?

Lin Zhaoxue’s memory stopped at the moment Li Yanyong rushed back to see her.  Seeing that she was alive, she subconsciously asked:

“Where’s my husband, Li Yanyong?”

She had woken up, and Li Yanyong had changed.

Then the two of them could be happy together.

Hearing this, the head of the household casually handed the medicine he was stirring to Lin Zhaoxue.

Lin Zhaoxue recoiled from the heat.

But the head of the household didn’t care if she was burned, only seeming to find it interesting, raising an eyebrow:

“As expected of someone who survived these five years clinging to the hope of my mentioning Li Yanyong.  The moment you wake up, you think of your husband.  Truly a devoted couple.”

She had been unconscious for five years.

The head of the household said:

“Now you don’t need to call me Head of the Household.  You can call me Li Zongheng, or if you prefer, Li Da Ren (Mr. Li).”

Lin Zhaoxue held the bowl: “What do you mean?”

Li Zongheng glanced at her indifferently: “He got married.  You don’t get to call me Head of the Household anymore.”

“Li Yanyong?”

“Who else could it be?”

Lin Zhaoxue’s mind went blank.

She opened her mouth.

Li Zongheng watched her, speechless.

There was silence between them for a long time.

Lin Zhaoxue had always been stubborn.

As if to convince herself, Lin Zhaoxue retorted: “I don’t believe he remarried.”

But then—

She realized her words were baseless.

What Li Zongheng said was most likely true.

From Li Zongheng’s words, she learned that she had been unconscious for five years.

And her husband, Li Yanyong, as the most exemplary and irreproachable noble son—

Wouldn’t have remained unmarried for five years.

This was perfectly normal, even expected.

In comparison, her rebuttal was laughable.

Lin Zhaoxue clutched the quilt,

“I want to go back and see him.”

“Even if he’s married, I want to see who his wife is.”

Li Zongheng: “Of course, it’s your freedom.

However, in their eyes, you’re long dead. Don’t rashly go back as Lin Zhaoxue.

From what I know, they’re deeply in love now. Don’t end up failing to win back your husband and getting treated as a ghost, burned to ashes by a Taoist priest.”

Deeply in love?

Given Li Yanyong’s personality, they couldn’t be that deeply in love.

She had experienced her marriage with Li Yanyong.

That being said.

Lin Zhaoxue still felt a mix of emotions.

She was angry, furious, and sad.

But ultimately,

She felt a deep sense of powerlessness, slumping in despair:

“Then what should I do?”

“I can’t just sit idly by.”

“He’s my husband.”

Yes.

She couldn’t give up without seeing Li Yanyong.

Lin Zhaoxue found that the joy of waking up was gone.

Waking up to find her husband had remarried.

She felt that fate was unfair.

Li Yanyong had already apologized, and she had woken up and recovered her health.

What a wonderful situation, seemingly heading towards a happy ending.

Yet, a new woman had appeared, standing between them.

Why didn’t she just die completely?

It would have been better than seeing her husband marry someone else.

Lin Zhaoxue only grieved for a while before suppressing her pain.

She was still alive.

She wasn’t someone who would easily give up.

She couldn’t be the selfless person who would let others have their way.