“In this life, suffering some grievances oneself, enduring some hardships—one can bear it and it passes. But the grievances a child suffers, the hardships a child endures…”

His face suddenly turned very pale, as if grinding his teeth.

“One can never bear it!”

“I haven’t suffered any real grievances.”

Through tear-blurred eyes, Yan Sanhe spoke softly.

She wasn’t telling the truth.

She actually very much wanted to hold him and cry bitterly, tell him about all the cold stares and harsh words she’d endured over the years.

Tell him that some people scorned her birth, felt she wasn’t worthy to be their child.

Tell him that every festival, she envied other families’ warmth and liveliness.

Tell him how lonely and pitiful it was to be a person without roots.

But she said none of it.

In her solitary eyes of eighteen years, there was finally a father, a mother, family—her heart was so full, how could it hold even that small grievance?

He seemed completely unsurprised that Yan Sanhe would say this, not even lifting his head as he said, “Good that you haven’t suffered grievances!”

His voice choked, as if suppressing something.

Yan Sanhe noticed he was cutting stroke by stroke with particular force, so much that his fingers gripping the knife had turned red.

“What two characters are you carving?”

She didn’t want him to worry, deliberately changing the subject.

“Taotao.”

He made the final cut, exhaled deeply, blew on the jade pendant, then took out a handkerchief to carefully wipe it before handing it to her.

“Keep this.”

“The two characters Taotao…”

She had just begun when Madam Liang walked in carrying a plate, smiling broadly. “Come, try this—just stir-fried, very fragrant!”

Yan Sanhe tucked the jade pendant into her clothes, picked up a piece, put it in her mouth, and after tasting it, found it indeed fragrant.

“What medicine can this be used for?”

“Eaten for forty-nine consecutive days, it can cure allergies.”

Madam Liang pushed the plate into her hands. “You two split this whole plate. I’ll go get the wine jar.”

Yan Sanhe didn’t understand. “Does this need to be taken with wine?”

Madam Liang nodded very seriously. “Yes, and it must be eighteen-year-old aged wine.”

Soon, the wine jar was brought over.

When opened, its fragrance filled the air.

He stood to pour the wine, filling only two bowls.

One he placed before himself, one before Yan Sanhe.

He raised his hand, touching Yan Sanhe’s head, smiling as he said softly, “My daughter has grown up.”

My! Daughter!

Tears flooded Yan Sanhe’s eyes.

His lips moved, as if wanting to comfort her but not knowing how. After a long while, he instructed, “From now on, eat well, sleep well, live well.”

Having said this, he lifted the wine bowl and drank it down in large gulps.

Drinking too hastily, wine flowed from the corners of his mouth, falling on his beard, on his clothes, on his heart that was so reluctant, ten thousand times reluctant to let go.

“Don’t worry, I’ll definitely be fine.”

Yan Sanhe smiled at him through her tears, and following his example, lifted her bowl and drank in large gulps.

As she finished the last mouthful and was about to speak, the wine bowl shattered with a “crack” into two halves.

A tremendous force surged from behind, pulling her forcefully backward, and backward again.

So soon—time to say goodbye already?

But she still had so many, many words left unsaid!

She hadn’t yet kowtowed three times to them.

Hadn’t yet properly called out “Father,” called out “Mother.”

Hadn’t yet acted spoiled with them, acted willful, nestled her head in their embrace.

Hadn’t yet instructed them that in the next life they must come again, must be ordinary people, living ordinary lives.

At this moment, she saw Madam Liang lift her skirts and chase after her desperately, crying out heart-rendingly:

“My child, your mother has wronged you—don’t hate us!

In the future at your husband’s home, if anyone dares bully you, bully them right back. Don’t endure it. Endure once, and you’ll endure every time, and you’ll never be able to turn things around.

You must be fierce, must be fierce!”

She couldn’t chase anymore and stopped to catch her breath a few times before shouting with all her might, “Be happy, live happily!”

Yan Sanhe’s tears burst forth like a broken dam.

She suddenly thought of a poem from the Book of Songs: “The noble youth so bright and free, together in joy and harmony; the noble youth carefree and light, together in bliss day and night!”

So Taotao was the courtesy name he gave her.

He hoped his daughter would live a life free of worry, harmonious and content!

She suddenly understood.

The wine buried under the osmanthus tree was called Daughter’s Red. Three mu of glutinous rice fields could brew three jars of Daughter’s Red.

When a daughter was born, her father would carefully seal the wine in jars and bury it deep under the osmanthus tree.

When the daughter turned eighteen and married, this wine would accompany her as a wedding gift to her husband’s family.

When he had nothing to do, her father would go stamp his feet a few times under the osmanthus tree.

Stamping his feet was burying his feelings.

Daughter, oh daughter, your father can’t bear to part with you!

The enormous suction and enormous sorrow together engulfed Yan Sanhe.

She struggled, sobbing uncontrollably, shouting loudly at the two increasingly blurred figures:

“Father, Mother, don’t leave me behind!”

…

“Click—”

In the darkness of night, Xie Zhifei sat bolt upright in bed, his expression blank.

What was that sound just now?

Very clear.

As if something had fallen heavily.

At that moment, the door creaked open and Zhu Qing walked in carrying a candle.

“Master, did you just hear…”

“Xie Fifty, Xie Fifty…”

A desperate cry drowned out Zhu Qing’s voice.

Young Master Pei shot in like an arrow, shoving Zhu Qing aside, grabbing Xie Zhifei’s collar, incoherently saying:

“You, you, the sound… did you hear it just now?”

Xie Zhifei looked at him silently.

“You didn’t hear it?”

Young Master Pei was frantic. “A click, so clear, right in my ear, scared me so much I…”

“I was also startled awake.”

Xie Zhifei pointed at Zhu Qing. “And him too!”

So everyone heard it?

Pei Xiao’s expression changed several times as he released his grip. “What, what do you think that sound was?”

Xie Zhifei pinched the bridge of his nose a few times.

He remembered this sound vividly—it was exactly the same as when his father had lit incense for Yan Xing, when the heart demon was resolved and the coffin lid closed.

“I think it might, probably was the sound of a coffin lid closing.”

“The crow’s heart demon has been resolved?”

The air instantly froze.

No one answered Young Master Pei’s question.

Even Xie Zhifei himself didn’t quite dare believe what he’d just said.

How could the heart demon be resolved so quickly?

Who was the incense lighter?

Couldn’t it be the old Emperor?

After a long while, Xie Zhifei looked toward Zhu Qing. “Go to the Zhu manor immediately and see if there are any changes in the ice cellar.”

“Yes!”

Zhu Qing turned to leave.

But just moments later, he quickly returned, his expression unusually grave.

“Third Master, Duanmu Palace just sent word—a quarter past the third watch, the Crown Prince and Crown Prince’s son were summoned to the palace.”

Now?

To the palace?

“At the same time, all the imperial physicians from the entire Imperial Medical Bureau were also summoned.”

Zhu Qing walked to the bed, keeping his voice low. “His Highness asks Third Master to keep watch outside.”

With these words, it was like pouring a basin of water into a hot oil pan, making Young Master Pei jump up like an exploding pot.

“This, this, this…”

Xie Zhifei thought of those crows circling above the imperial palace, his heart sinking.

He threw back the covers and got up. “Have Ding Yi go to the Zhu residence. Zhu Qing, you come with me to the Metropolitan Police Command.”

“What, what about me?”

Pei Xiao grabbed Xie Zhifei’s sleeve, panicking. “What do I do?”

Xie Zhifei pointed toward the palace, leaning close to say, “Also return to your office to prepare.”

According to Hua Kingdom custom, when an emperor died, all temple and monastery bells in the capital had to be rung thirty thousand times.

Pei Xiao looked at Xie Zhifei with utter disbelief.

Could it be true—was the dynasty really about to change?

—

The fourth heart demon is officially complete as of today, and the fifth heart demon officially begins.

This is also the last heart demon.

The reason there was no update yesterday was that I wasn’t satisfied with what I wrote. I wrote three versions, each worse than the last, and ended up crying from frustration.

This heart demon requires empathy with too many emotions, and recently there have been continuous climaxes and emotional outbursts—it’s as if I’ve exhausted all my strength, and felt somewhat powerless with the last bit.

The fourth heart demon has quite a lot of flashbacks, so the pacing is somewhat slow. This couldn’t be helped because almost all the parties involved in the Crown Prince’s case are gone, and it plays a crucial transitional role in the entire book—it’s very important.

The fifth heart demon will be shorter in length and faster in pace, focusing on plot. All the holes that need filling will be filled, everyone’s emotions will have resolution, and there will be a major reversal.

Those willing to accompany me on this final journey, boldly follow along—I’ll strive not to let you down!

If you find following along too exhausting, wait until it’s complete and then read!

Thank you all for your patience!