"Old man..." Xiao Changyi’s cold eyes brimd with tears as he watched the coffin being carried step by step into the imperial mausoleum.
The words "old man" were spoken in a voice so soft, so faint, they were barely audible. But from his trembling lips, full of grief, An Jing, standing by his side, understood that he was calling out to Su Haoyu.
At this mont, An Jing was filled with both sorrow and hatred.
As the coffin was about to disappear from sight within the imperial mausoleum, Xiao Changyi quickened his pace and followed it inside. This was his father—if he could stay with his father just a little longer, he would stay a little longer.
By the ti Xiao Changyi erged from the mausoleum, night had already fallen.
Outside the imperial mausoleum, apart from the guards, there was only one other person—An Jing. She was waiting for soone, and that person was undoubtedly her husband, Xiao Changyi.
When Xiao Changyi reached her side, An Jing finally spoke, "Husband, we will avenge Father. We will."
"Mm."
"Let’s go ho."
"Mm."
When they returned ho, An Jing and Xiao Changyi found their four little ones crying.
As soon as the four little ones saw An Jing and Xiao Changyi, they ran over, crying as they asked, "Daddy, Mommy, is Grandpa really never waking up to play with us again?"
An Jing suppressed the sorrow in her heart, held the little ones close, and comforted them, "Your grandpa wishes he could still play with you, but your grandma is so lonely up there in the heavens—all alone. So your grandpa had to go keep her company. If you’re good and behave, your grandpa can feel at ease staying up there with your grandma."
"Okay, we’ll be good." The four little ones nodded through their sobs, obedient as ever.
That night.
Deep into the quiet night, the four little ones were already fast asleep between An Jing and Xiao Changyi. But Xiao Changyi remained wide awake. Lying there felt unbearable, so eventually, he got up, left the bedroom, and sat by the stone table in the courtyard, settling on a stone stool.
Above him, a cold sliver of moon hung in the sky, unnoticed.
He just sat there quietly, moonlight spilling over him, bathing him in a silvery glow, while gradually illuminating the deep grief in his heart.
He had brought his entire family to the Imperial Capital so that his foster father could enjoy his twilight years in comfort. And now...
At this thought, the hand Xiao Changyi had placed on the stone table clenched into a tight fist, veins bulging starkly on its back.
He had to personally exact vengeance on his enemy—only then could he quell the hatred burning in his heart.
Inside the room, An Jing was sleeping fitfully. Half asleep, half awake, she noticed her husband wasn’t by her side. So she rose quietly and went out to look for him.
Stepping outside, she saw her husband sitting alone in the courtyard. After a mont’s hesitation, she walked over and sat beside him on a stone stool adjacent to his.
As soon as Xiao Changyi saw her, he imdiately got up and went back into the house. When he returned, he was carrying a plain-colored cloak, which he then draped over her shoulders, shielding her from the cold night air so she wouldn’t fall ill.
An Jing felt both moved and heartbroken seeing her husband like this. Once he sat down again, she reached out and firmly held his hand, which he had once again rested on the stone table.
She said nothing, only held his hand tightly, as if by doing so, she could pour boundless strength into him—enough to carry him through his sorrow.
Xiao Changyi also remained silent, allowing An Jing to grip his hand tightly, lost in his grief for a long ti before coming back to himself. In a low voice, he murmured, "He promised he’d live to a hundred..."
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