The dilapidated dwelling had a courtyard packed full of things, with dingy wet clothes fluttering on the clothesline.

Chang Shi sat in the courtyard vigorously scrubbing a basin of dirty clothes. Hearing movement, she raised her head, her heart involuntarily sinking. “Hui’er, what’s wrong that you’re in such a rush?”

Wen Hui was out of breath, his face showing a very peculiar expression. “That person, that person’s second daughter has become Crown Princess!”

Who this “that person” referred to, Chang Shi knew all too clearly. She immediately exerted force with her hands and tore the garment she was washing.

She couldn’t care about feeling distressed and abruptly stood up. “You’re saying that girl Lin Hao?”

Wen Hui nodded with a complex expression. “It’s her.”

After speaking, he squatted down on the ground and fell into a daze.

During last year’s autumn examinations, halfway through the test he’d been carried out due to his body giving out. Three years of effort went down the drain.

Unwillingness, pain, dejection—various negative emotions mixed together, crushing most of his spirit. He often showed vacant, stunned expressions.

Seeing her son like this, Chang Shi panicked. “Hui’er, Hui’er, don’t make things hard on yourself again—”

Wen Hui kept his head lowered, muttering blankly, “It’s all my fault, all my fault… If I hadn’t fallen ill and failed to complete the examination, our family wouldn’t be in this state…”

He raised his hand and began slapping his own face. “It’s my fault, my fault—”

Chang Shi doted most on her son. Seeing him like this, she quickly grabbed his hand. “Hui’er, you can’t think that way. How is it your fault! It’s because your sister had an accident, and you were busy with Qing’er’s matters while also studying—your body couldn’t take it anymore. Waah…”

Chang Shi cried, then twisted her head and shouted hoarsely, “Wen Qing, you dead girl, what are you doing cooped up in your room all day? Didn’t you hear your elder brother came home?”

Before long, an emaciated young woman stood eerily on the steps, motionless as she gazed toward the courtyard.

Her dry, waist-length hair hung loose, covering most of both cheeks, yet still couldn’t hide the hideous scar on her left cheek.

Seeing her daughter’s appearance, Chang Shi’s anger flared. She roared, “Are you blind to the work that needs doing? Hurry and wash the clothes! Always making me suffer alone!”

Once upon a time, she’d naturally loved her pretty, beautiful daughter. But now the family was poor, and the daughter, disfigured and listless all day, not only couldn’t marry out to help her natal family but would need to be supported for a lifetime. No matter how much love there had been, time had worn it down to disgust.

Disgust with her daughter, disgust with their unsatisfactory life.

It was all his fault!

Chang Shi’s hateful gaze shot toward the east room. Her face twisted as she rushed inside.

On the bed lay a man emaciated to skin and bones, motionless. His whole person exuded a sour stench mixing medicine smell and sweat smell—anyone who got close would be nauseated.

Hearing the movement, he stirred his eyelids but didn’t open his eyes.

“All you know is playing dead! If it weren’t for you, you consumptive ghost, Qing’er wouldn’t have gone to Lin Hao asking for money. If Qing’er hadn’t gone asking for money, she wouldn’t have had an accident. If Qing’er hadn’t had an accident, Hui’er wouldn’t have been too worried and collapsed in the examination hall… It’s all your fault, all your fault. Why won’t you just die!”

Speaking to the point of agitation, Chang Shi frantically beat Wen Rugui’s arms.

Wen Rugui opened his eyes slightly. As if feeling no pain, he remained unmoved by Chang Shi’s frenzy.

Such scenes had occurred countless times over the past half year. He’d long grown accustomed to it.

“Say something! Have you gone mute?”

“Mad woman.” Wen Rugui’s lips moved, spitting out two words.

“What did you say?” Chang Shi stopped her actions and leaned closer to listen.

This man had given her no reaction to her beatings and scolding for a long time. She herself hadn’t realized that this was precisely what drove her increasingly mad.

“Mad woman…”

Chang Shi heard it. First she opened her eyes wide in disbelief, then came anger. “You’re calling me crazy? Then what are you, you consumptive ghost? I’m telling you, your precious second daughter has become Crown Princess. Happy? Oh, I remember now—she’s called Lin Hao now, nothing to do with you anymore. Hahaha…”

“You, what did you say?” Wen Rugui’s body moved. He tried to sit up, but naturally couldn’t with his physical condition.

He could only stare intently at Chang Shi, trying to discern truth from falsehood in her expression.

Seeing him like this, Chang Shi only felt satisfaction. “Why would I lie to you? She married Prince Jing’s heir. Prince Jing’s heir became Crown Prince, so she became Crown Princess. In the future, she’ll even be Empress. What a pity—all of this has nothing to do with you, you fool…”

“Crown Princess, Empress…” Wen Rugui murmured. Not having spoken for so long made his voice sound rusted.

He tried hard to recall his second daughter’s appearance, but whether from not seeing her too long or from his illness muddling his brain, he actually couldn’t remember.

What surfaced in his mind was Lin Shi’s face.

Lin Wanqing, whom he’d always thought spoiled, crude, and simple-minded.

Yet at this moment, the way she appeared in his mind was bright, forthright, pure.

His and Wanqing’s daughter had become Crown Princess.

In his ears rang Chang Shi’s shrill cursing. Wen Rugui blinked his turbid, lusterless eyes and saw the ugly woman with a twisted face.

From when he’d been stripped of his official position and left the main Wen residence, this woman before his eyes had gradually transformed into this ugly appearance.

He closed his eyes again. The person he saw became Lin Shi.

He didn’t know why, but he felt absolutely certain that if he and Wanqing had fallen into poverty together, Wanqing absolutely wouldn’t have complained day after day endlessly. Rather, she would have faced hardship even more positively than him, and they would have supported each other through difficulties.

Only now did he fully understand—Wanqing was a vigorously growing tree, while Chang Shi was dodder flower that only knew to desperately absorb nutrients from others.

And him?

Hahaha, Chang Shi was right—he was a fool.

A tremendous fool!

A tear fell from the corner of his eye, washing over his filthy cheek, flowing turbidly into his collar.

Chang Shi sensed something was wrong. Looking closely, she froze.

Wen Rugui had closed his eyes and completely stopped breathing.

Chang Shi checked his breathing and shouted loudly, “Wen Rugui!”

She’d hoped for his death for a long time, yet now that he’d suddenly died like this, Chang Shi found it hard to accept. Sometimes she called Wen Rugui, sometimes she called “cousin,” and more often she cursed crudely.

In the courtyard, her son squatted in a daze, her daughter stood lost in thought. As if they couldn’t hear their mother’s crying and cursing, neither went to look in the room even once.

Wen Rugui had endured the long cold winter, yet died in the mid-spring of Tai’an’s eleventh year. Three years ago, he and Lin Shi had reached the conclusion of their separation in mid-spring, the second month.

Later, Lin Shi still heard news of Wen Rugui’s death.

At that time, she’d just ridden back from the estate in the capital’s outskirts. Upon hearing, she paused slightly and instructed the maid Fangfei, “Go to the kitchen and bring a bowl of sweet cream with cherries. The weather’s hot—it’ll reduce the heat.”

The cream was sweet and fragrant. One bite washed away that trace of faint melancholy that couldn’t even be called bitterness.

Her future days would be like this bowl of sweet cream with cherries—still long, still sweet. Those unhappy things should be forgotten.