Tears slid down Yan Sanhe’s face as she clenched her teeth, tearing her entire being into two halves.

One half pitifully fragile and weak;

One half unwilling to compromise and hard as stone.

Xie Zhifei was stunned into stupidity.

His mind was foggy and muddled, until a thought emerged from the depths of his heart, finally parting the clouds.

So that’s it.

When she was “possessed by ghosts,” she was struggling with the anguish that Yan Xing’s heart demon would be a family letter!

She didn’t believe it either, didn’t even want to believe that Yan Xing’s heart demon could be this!

She fought with herself, tore at herself, opposed herself, and finally chose to let go of three deaths, let go of her hatred toward the Xie household, and dissolve Yan Xing’s heart demon from before his death!

Xie Zhifei felt someone viciously squeeze his heart, making it tremble heavily.

But he still had something to say.

“Yan Sanhe, you said the coffin wouldn’t close because the deceased had an unspoken wish. It’s just a family letter—he wouldn’t have been so…”

“You are not him.”

Yan Sanhe’s voice was ice-cold.

“You won’t understand how difficult it is for a proud, arrogant person who looks down on everyone to open his mouth and ask for help.

Moreover, people are divided into classes. Back then he was high and mighty—helping them mother and son was bestowing grace.

But now he was a disgraced and exiled person. To shamelessly beg for help from his stepson who had become an official—his dignity and upbringing wouldn’t allow it.”

“Asking for help is like swallowing a three-foot sword. If he had done it, he wouldn’t be himself.”

Xie Daozhi collapsed to the ground, his gaze looking toward emptiness. “He wouldn’t have ended up in that situation either. He wouldn’t have.”

Yan Sanhe tried to make her voice sound calm, but it still carried a tremor.

“He wrote you a letter asking for your help. How was that letter written? You should still remember!”

How could Xie Daozhi not remember? He could recite every word backward.

*Daozhi:*

*I trust you are well.*

*In my youth I was reckless, thinking everyone in this world except myself was foolish and mediocre;*

*In my prime I gained office and success, but my temperament was aloof and proud. I looked down on everyone, unwilling to share in their pollution or go with the flow of hypocrites. In middle age, I ended up with family scattered and exiled to a barbarous land.*

*Such an outcome is all fate.*

*Since it is fate, I have no regrets.*

*The only regret of this life is that when I drove you mother and son from the household, I didn’t choose a better day. Heavy snow was falling—you must have been so cold.*

*Fortunately, only those who are frozen through can desperately run toward warmth.*

*Today my son comes to your door for the sake of my grandson. My grandson is pitiful, born with illness, and at such a young age has already tasted the bitterness of a hundred medicines.*

*I hope that for the sake of our thin connection from the past, you will ask Imperial Physician Liu of the Imperial Medical Bureau for him.*

*If you succeed, it is this child’s blessing; if you cannot, it is also his tribulation. Everything is just doing what humans can and leaving the rest to fate. I will be endlessly grateful.*

*In the court, it’s like walking a tightrope; at the pinnacle of power, it’s like treading on thin ice.*

*You must be careful!*

*Yan Xing, written by my own hand.*

Yan Sanhe’s gaze moved toward the window, her eyes moist.

“He seemed indifferent to everything, but his heart was hidden between the lines. If he didn’t consider you family, he absolutely couldn’t have said those last words.”

“…”

Xie Daozhi’s cloudy tears flowed even more fiercely.

Twenty years in the court—he had walked this path on the edge of a knife.

Others only watched to see how high he climbed. Only one’s closest relatives cared whether you were tired, whether it was dangerous.

Just like every time Third Son left the capital, he himself had to remind and exhort a thousand times: “Son, be careful in everything!”

“When he sent that letter, his heart held hope, but what came was terrible news.”

Yan Sanhe walked to the window and suddenly pushed it open.

Outside the window, it was still a desolate wind and night rain.

She couldn’t imagine what Grandfather’s state of mind was when he saw his grandson’s cold corpse. It must have been a thousand times, ten thousand times colder than this desolate wind and night rain.

“This matter made him thoroughly understand that the Old Madam never told you the truth from back then. You still hated him to the bone.”

“I…”

Xie Daozhi had no defense. He could only bite his tongue until it bled.

“How desperate he must have been toward me!”

“It wasn’t despair. Despair crushes a person.

He only hated—hated himself for being blind;

Hated himself for making a wedding dress for others;

Hated that some people can truly be so ruthless, calculating, and cruel to an appalling degree.”

She paused for a moment, turned around, and looked at Xie Daozhi with a self-mocking smile.

“Sometimes, both love and hate are the motivation that keeps people alive.”

Xie Daozhi bowed down in extreme shame, his forehead forcefully striking the ground, once, then again.

Seeing his father in extreme pain, Xie Zhifei gritted his teeth.

“Yan Sanhe, if it’s hate, then it has nothing to do with the family letter.”

“I told you, you are not him.”

Yan Sanhe glanced coldly at Xie Zhifei, then turned again to look at the night scene outside the window.

Xie Zhifei saw clearly.

She slowly raised her head, her face showing an expression like a soldier looking toward the general he most revered and admired.

“Time is a good thing. Not only is it fair to everyone, but it can also wear away and take away love and hate.”

She sighed softly.

“When one tragedy occurs, it can still be attributed to Heaven. When tragedies occur continuously, one can’t help but think about where exactly the problem lies.

Especially for someone as brilliantly intelligent as him.

The longer he pondered the entire matter, the more he understood that he himself was the originator of the entire tragedy.”

Xie Daozhi suddenly raised his head, looking at Yan Sanhe with bloodshot eyes.

“If he hadn’t taken you in back then; if he hadn’t let you leave back then;

If he hadn’t offended that retainer back then; if he had been willing to lower his head back then…”

Yan Sanhe’s voice was distant, “Perhaps everything would have changed.”

Xie Zhifei: “Yan Sanhe, you mean…”

“Cause leads to effect.”

Yan Sanhe’s voice deepened.

“He himself was the cause. Everything else was effect.”

The Old Madam’s schemes—he had seen through them early on and tacitly condoned them.

Xie Daozhi’s hatred—he had deliberately caused it to push him to become talented.

That retainer—he couldn’t swallow his anger and turn a blind eye.

If time could flow backward, if life could start over, as long as he retained that personality and that temper, he would still say the same words, do the same things, and bear the same fate’s heavy blows.

This was destined!

While he, Xie Daozhi, worked hard, strove upward, endured when he should endure, was ruthless when he should be ruthless, spoke human words to humans and ghost words to ghosts—slick, scheming, calculating in every way…

That’s why he could reach where he is today.

Yan Sanhe turned to look at Xie Daozhi, tears streaming down her face.

“No regrets for moves made—that’s Yan Xing. A clear conscience—that’s Yan Xing.

He stood on the side of conscience and humanity, but conscience and humanity didn’t stand on his side.”

These words were like daggers stabbing into Xie Daozhi’s heart.

He could no longer feel pain, only overwhelming shame. He wanted to find a lake to jump into, to wash his filthy soul.

“After he thought through the entire matter, he let it go. You must be wondering why I’m so certain?”

Yan Sanhe’s voice repeated with grief. This time she was asking herself.

“Yes, why am I so certain?”