The capital had three layers of city walls: the palace city, inner city, and outer city.

The Xie manor’s convoy passed through the outer city gate and inner city gate, soon reaching the residence.

Yan Sanhe dismounted, about to step forward but stopped again, as if very unwilling to enter this gate.

Yes, unwilling!

Before leaving the Xie family, she had spoken harsh words and secretly sworn never to set foot in the Xie manor again in this lifetime.

“Scared?”

The voice of that frivolous dandy sounded behind her. Yan Sanhe quietly straightened her back.

Who’s scared?

“Since you’re not scared, let’s go then.”

Third Master Xie walked to her side, his tone meaningful. “Yan Sanhe, no one dares to do anything to you.”

Right now you’re the entire Xie manor’s ancestor.

Life-saving ancestor!

Yan Sanhe sneered coldly. “Xie Zhifei, you don’t need to use reverse psychology on me.”

Xie Zhifei: “So you finally remember my name?”

A dandy, right?

Who could forget that?

Yan Sanhe took a light breath and stepped across the high threshold.

Seeing them arrive, Steward Xie hurried over with an umbrella, his face wearing a fawning smile.

“Miss Yan, everything is prepared, just waiting for you.”

Yan Sanhe glanced at him. “Where’s Xie Daozhi?”

Why is she addressing him by full name again?

Steward Xie grumbled inwardly but fawned even more enthusiastically. “The master has already bathed and changed clothes and is waiting for Miss in the study!”

Yan Sanhe: “Does your family’s Old Madam still have breath?”

Steward Xie choked hard. “Yes, yes, still breathing, just that…”

“Summon all the dutiful sons and grandsons of the Xie manor, every single one, to the Old Madam’s bedside.”

Yan Sanhe coldly interrupted. “In case that incense won’t light, they can at least hear a few of the Old Madam’s last words.”

“Pa-da!”

Steward Xie’s hand went slack, and the umbrella fell to the ground. His eyes darted frantically toward their masters.

But neither master voiced objection. Third Master even stiffened his face. “Do as Miss Yan says.”

Steward Xie didn’t even bother picking up the umbrella, turning on his plump legs and running off.

After running a few steps, he turned back.

“Miss Yan, as Third Master instructed, the clothes, shoes, and socks are all prepared, and hot water is ready too. You…”

“First see Xie Daozhi.”

Yan Sanhe found Steward Xie bothersome and pushed him aside, walking into the deep residence in the rain with hands clasped behind her back.

She was thoroughly soaked, her hair still dripping water, but her slender back was held perfectly straight, her steps extremely steady.

Steward Xie had seen countless people. At this moment, he actually glimpsed from that back a bearing of “though ten thousand oppose me, I go forward.”

Strange.

How could a country girl have such presence?

He had no time to think further and ran off again.

Behind them, the two Xie brothers exchanged a glance and divided tasks with perfect understanding—

The eldest son and grandson would guard the Old Madam. Third would supervise things at the study.

Xie Erli thought of how the Old Madam doted most on Third. His heart sank bit by bit. “If it really comes to that… hurry over to see her one last time.”

“Alright.”

Xie Zhifei nodded.

The two brothers parted ways at the second gate. Xie Zhifei saw his elder brother’s heavy footsteps and suddenly ran after him, clapping his shoulder.

“Brother, don’t worry. I think there’s hope this time.”

…

In the study, lights blazed brightly.

Yan Sanhe forcefully pinched the bridge of her nose twice, then pushed open the door and walked in.

Xie Daozhi shot to his feet and stepped forward, cautiously calling out, “Miss Yan.”

Yan Sanhe looked at him. “Is the brush, ink, paper, and inkstone ready?”

“As Miss instructed, everything is prepared.”

“Then write!”

“Write what?”

Xie Daozhi looked bewildered.

Yan Sanhe said nothing, just stood there stiffly.

“Yan Sanhe.”

Xie Zhifei, who had followed in, pressed further. “What do you want my father to write?”

Yan Sanhe pressed her lips together, suddenly sat down in a nearby chair, and hung her head in silence, her face as gloomy as the rainy sky outside.

Xie Daozhi’s heart leaped to his throat, nearly unable to stand steady.

It’s over!

Is it not working again?

But Xie Zhifei keenly sensed that Yan Sanhe’s shoulders had sunk down, as if something was weighing on her, crushing her bit by bit.

Xie Zhifei recalled her hesitation at the Xie manor gate and threw caution to the wind.

“Yan Sanhe, you said it yourself—even with just ten percent certainty, you must try. Once the coffin is sealed, that’s it. You can’t bear to let your grandfather depart without peace.”

Yan Sanhe sneered coldly. “I told you—don’t use reverse psychology on me. It doesn’t work.”

Xie Zhifei: “…”

Yan Sanhe raised her head, her gaze neither thick nor thin as she looked at Xie Daozhi.

Xie Daozhi was shocked again—those eyes were full of mockery, so thick it was nearly overflowing.

Yan Sanhe stood up, her pitch-black pupils meeting his gaze.

“You write a family letter. Say whatever you want—family news or trivial matters, just like the family letters your son normally writes to you. If I haven’t miscalculated…”

Yan Sanhe’s voice was light and trembling—

“His heart demon is this family letter of yours.”

What?

A family letter?

Yan Hang’s heart demon was a family letter written to him by his stepson?

Xie Zhifei couldn’t believe his own ears. He looked up at Xie Daozhi, whose face showed even greater shock than his own.

“Yan Sanhe, are you mistaken? How is that possible?”

Having spoken the most difficult words, Yan Sanhe no longer hesitated.

“Besides my father, he had two other sons and a daughter. The daughter died in childbirth, the sons died one after another in a plague. These people were his deepest attachments in this world.”

Xie Zhifei nodded in strong agreement.

“Besides that.”

Yan Sanhe looked at Xie Daozhi. “The one who could make him concerned was you.”

“How could it be me?”

Xie Daozhi shook his head desperately.

“Absolutely impossible. I didn’t let them through the gate—I didn’t even let them through the gate. Yan Sanhe, he should hate me. You’re wrong, you must be wrong.”

“Because.”

Yan Sanhe’s tone was indescribably ominous, word by word.

“He no longer has any other children to be concerned about.

Because from the first moment he saw you, he placed deep hopes in you.

Because he painstakingly worked to make you talented, forced you to become talented, and finally let you fly far away.

Because the farther you went, the higher you climbed, the more you were his pride.

Because that divorce document was torn up by your mother—you were still his stepson.”

Yan Sanhe’s voice suddenly dropped.

“In his heart, you were his son.”

Every word was like a knife cutting flesh, cutting into Xie Daozhi’s body. He hurt so much he couldn’t make a sound, only gasping violently for air.

I was his son?

He actually considered me his son?

He still considered me his son?

I…

A howl emerged from Xie Daozhi’s throat as he collapsed forward.

“Father! Father!”

Xie Zhifei shouted and rushed over to catch him.

But Xie Daozhi pushed his son away, half-crawling, half-kneeling, stumbling toward Yan Sanhe.

Looking up, tears already streaming down his aged face.

“Yan Sanhe, is what you said true? Is it?”

“I too wish it were false.”

Tears slowly fell from Yan Sanhe’s eyes as well.

She so wished it were false.

Then she could watch with her own eyes as that calculating Old Madam of the Xie manor met her end.

Then she could feel perfectly justified letting the Xie family face misfortune, death, dismissal from office, and complete ruin.

Then she could use the entire Xie family as burial companions for those three lost lives.

After all, your Xie family’s tall building was climbed upon his back. Now that the building collapses because of him, wouldn’t that be perfect poetic justice—repaying kindness with kindness, repaying enmity with enmity?