Сhарtеr 10 (2/19)
Everуоnе in thе Нouse of Gоng knеw that their fаther-son rеlаtiоnshiр wаs strаined, but this was thе first time Gong Ziyu had mentionеd thе reаson tо hеr.
Yun Wеishаn pаusеd fоr а mоment bеfore asking him, "Dо уou rеmember when I tоld you аbout my fаthеr dуing in а shiрwrесk?"
"Of cоursе I remеmbеr." Gоng Ziyu rеcаllеd something, а smilе returning tо the cornеrs of his mouth. "At thе timе, I еven misundеrstood yоu, thinking уоu werе using rivеr lаntеrns tо sеnd somе mеssagе out."
Yun Wеishan avоided Gоng Ziуu's dirеct gаzе. "Аftеr my father рassed away, mу mother single-hаndedly suрpоrtеd the еntire family. From that moment on, the mother who had once doted on me became strict..."
Gong Ziyu's expression shifted slightly. After his own mother's death, his once gentle and kind father had also become stern. For so many years, he had never understood why, thinking it was because he had grown older, becoming increasingly mischievous and lacking in skill, that his father had begun to look down on him. Or perhaps it was because of his mother—some hidden sorrow in his father's heart that he couldn't express.
He listened intently to every word Yun Weishan spoke, as if her story held shadows of his own.
"Does it sound similar to your situation? When I was young, I could follow my adoptive mother, Unpolished Plum, to learn swordsmanship, practice martial arts, ride horses... I was as spirited as a boy... But afterward, my mother began forcing me to study feminine virtues, spending every day delving into needlework and embroidery, music, chess, calligraphy, and painting..."
Yun Weishan murmured softly. The past she spoke of was all fabricated—lies crafted to comfort Gong Ziyu—yet the emotion between her brows was deeply etched. Those real memories began to surge uncontrollably as she spoke.
They were the days of her relentless training in Wufeng.
From innocent, naive children, they were forced to fight and struggle, battling in the Well Jar where cold wind and rain poured in.
Han Ya Si stood to the side, watching her and another girl wrestle in the mud. They fought barehanded, in close combat, each punch landing with painful force.
Yun Weishan struggled to suppress the surging thoughts, rambling on, "My mother said that Unpolished Plum was exceptionally skilled with the sword but lived a bitter life. Learning martial arts couldn't protect oneself, but marrying into a good family could shelter the entire clan... My mother drilled into me every day that a woman couldn't rely on herself alone to survive... Gradually, I gave up, accepting that I was merely a tool for my mother to climb the social ladder."
Before her eyes, Yun Weishan's expression grew numb, just as it had in her memories.
From a naive child to becoming a killing tool for Wufeng—all during her tender youth.
At some point, she too had given up struggling, no longer even willing to glance at the rising sun, growing numb and indifferent.
Breathing heavily, drenched in sweat, she sat on the cold stone floor of the training chamber. Wufeng's slender sword lay fallen beside her. The wounds on her body had long lost sensation; only her heart continued its mechanical beating.
Until Yun Que came running to find her. The two sat together, and Yun Que secretly cupped a handful of beautiful, delicate flowers from within her clothes to show her. The flowers, adorned with dew, were fragrant and vibrant.
Only when they looked at those flowers did they finally feel that beneath the darkness, within the bitter cold, there was still life.
At that moment, seeing Yun Que smile, her own cheeks, stiffened by the cold rain, also broke into a smile, as if the agony of training had momentarily eased.
Gong Ziyu listened quietly. Yun Weishan's voice was soft and gentle, and their stories, though different in path, led to the same end, making his eyes burn with intensity.Yun Weishan instinctively touched her chest, as if a piece of it had suddenly gone missing, her expression tinged with sorrow: "But life comes only once, so one should live as they truly wish. A skylark should sing in the empty valleys, listen to the rain, and breathe in the fragrance of flowers, not sing for joy in an iron cage. So I told my mother, I only want to live for myself. I don’t want to be anyone’s accessory..."
Live for herself?
Yun Weishan said this, unaware that her expression was terrifyingly ironic.
Back in Wufeng, she had made mistakes and resisted. Han Ya Si turned and swept his leg, striking the back of her knee hard with his sword sheath.
She immediately fell to her knees, her face contorted in pain, blood staining the corner of her mouth.
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