Wu Guanyue sounded old beyond his years: “What, disappointed?”

Yan Sanhe shook her head: “No, very handsome.”

Even more handsome than Wu Shunian.

“Miss Yan.”

Hu Sanmei smiled: “He insisted on waiting for you here. He’s waited for a very, very long time.”

Yan Sanhe asked: “Waiting for me to do what?”

Wu Guanyue spoke in a low, deep voice: “To say thank you.”

Yan Sanhe: “Wu Shunian already thanked me.”

Wu Guanyue was silent for a moment: “This is my thanks.”

Hu Sanmei: “Mine too.”

Wu Guanyue extended his hand. Hu Sanmei gripped it tightly. The two walked before Yan Sanhe, the black dog following behind them.

Hu Sanmei said with a beaming smile: “Miss Yan, farewell then!”

Wu Guanyue glanced behind him. “Someone is waiting for you. Like me, they’ve also waited for a long time.”

Who could it be?

Yan Sanhe walked forward a few steps, then suddenly stopped and chuckled.

On the stage, a young man dressed as a scholar hurriedly descended and walked to a round table, bending down to whisper a few words to a woman.

The woman turned to look at Yan Sanhe, revealing a brilliant, captivating smile.

The two walked over hand in hand.

The woman cast a flirtatious glance at Lu Shi: “I said she would come. See, I was right.”

Lu Shi looked at her indulgently, nodding without speaking.

The woman’s red lips were as beautiful as flower petals. “You look just as handsome as my eldest senior brother.”

Yan Sanhe smiled: “You made him dress up again?”

Tang Zhiwei smiled gracefully: “What can I do? I can never see enough.”

Yan Sanhe looked up at Lu Shi: “You just keep indulging her like this?”

Lu Shi answered with a smile.

Yan Sanhe: “Lu Da is following me now.”

“Take good care of him for me!”

Lu Shi’s deep eyes looked at Yan Sanhe, then he lowered his head to ask gently: “Shall we go?”

“Mm!”

Tang Zhiwei waved at Yan Sanhe: “By seniority, you should call me Junior Martial Aunt. Sanhe, farewell!”

“Junior Martial Aunt!”

Yan Sanhe, tears streaming down: shouted loudly, “Your fate is truly wonderful!”

Tang Zhiwei glanced at the man beside her, smiling with bewitching charm. “Of course—my father, my mother, they all say so.”

Therefore.

In this world, there were ultimately happy endings after all.

Yan Sanhe watched their retreating figures, wiped away tears, and suddenly quickened her pace.

She wanted to go home.

At this moment, a field of lanterns appeared before her eyes. Beside the lanterns stood a white-haired old woman.

Seeing Yan Sanhe, the old lady walked toward her leaning on her cane.

“Child, do you still remember me?”

“I remember. What are you doing here?”

“He went down below to suffer for me.”

The old lady sighed. “I’m waiting for him here.”

Still waiting?

Yan Sanhe frowned: “Haven’t you suffered enough in your last life? Have you forgotten how he schemed against you, Mao Huibao?”

“It’s all karmic debt!”

Madam Mao lowered her head, took a breath, then raised it again, smiling somewhat guiltily. “Miss Yan, farewell.”

Won’t listen to advice—serves you right for what you’ll suffer!

Yan Sanhe shook her head, unwilling to say another half word, and continued forward.

One person and one horse blocked her path.

Yan Sanhe looked at this unfamiliar face, and her five organs and six bowels suddenly ached. She blurted out: “You are… are you Zhang Tianxing?”

Zhang Tianxing’s eyes showed a trace of relief. This was the child he had guarded for a full eight years.

Finally, she had grown up.

And grown so beautiful.

He mounted his horse, raised his whip, and said through tears: “Young mistress, it’s dark. Hurry home—don’t wander outside.”

“Zhang Tianxing, wait a moment…”

One person and one horse galloped away, so carefree and unrestrained.

Won’t wait, young mistress. You have your journey home, and I have mine.

A tremendous force surged toward Yan Sanhe from behind, as if pushing her forward. She stumbled to a stop, hearing the sound of a great river roaring in her ears.

This was the Angry River.

She focused her gaze and saw two white-haired elderly people sitting by the river’s edge, with a pile of empty wine gourds scattered around them.

Yan Sanhe’s gaze fell on one of the old men. She shouted once and then ran toward him.

“Grandfather!”

Yan Xing turned to look at the girl lying on his shoulder, burped from the wine, and laughed: “You’re this grown up and still acting like a child.”

No matter how old, still your child.

Yan Sanhe tightly hugged his neck, refusing to let go at all. This old man had never entered her dreams.

Never.

Yan Xing looked somewhat apologetically at the person across from him. “Qiming, this child is making you laugh.”

“You can see you’ve raised her extremely well.”

The person called Qiming knelt up and bowed deeply to Yan Xing.

For this matter, no thanks. If there are thanks, they must be in the netherworld. When you and I meet, I will naturally kneel before you in a bow.

Yan Sanhe’s body trembled violently. She released her grip, turned around, and looked at the rising old man.

White hair.

White beard.

On his wrinkled face, a pair of eyes shone brightly.

Zheng Yu, courtesy name Qiming.

“Old General?”

Zheng Yu laughed heartily: “That’s being distant, child. You should also call me Grandfather.”

“Grandfather Zheng!”

Yan Sanhe threw herself at Zheng Yu’s feet. Thinking of those one hundred and eighty lives, her heart filled with grievance, and she suddenly began to wail.

Zheng Yu had never witnessed such a scene. Looking utterly helpless: “Wenzhong, help me comfort her!”

Yan Xing stroked his beard, watching as if enjoying a show: “I don’t have that ability. Whoever caused it should comfort her.”

Zheng Yu slowly placed his hand on Yan Sanhe’s head and let out a heavy sigh.

“Back then, I actually should have sent you away, sent you far, far away, to live like an ordinary person.”

Yan Sanhe sobbed uncontrollably: “Why didn’t you send me away? Why did you hide me in Haitang Courtyard? Why did you implicate the Zheng family…”

“Couldn’t bear to!”

Zheng Yu lifted his head. “You’re his child, one who should be in the heavens. Besides one Yan Xing, who else would I dare entrust you to!”

Yan Sanhe raised her tear-filled eyes: “Grandfather, do you resent me?”

“Child, look—spring passes and summer comes, summer passes and autumn comes… cycling endlessly. Birth and death are the same.

Zheng Yu smiled calmly: “The living are travelers, the dead return home. Walking on the road home, where is there resentment?”

Yan Xing looked deeply at Yan Sanhe, that glance containing both reluctance and acceptance.

“Go on—don’t delay our drinking!”

“Why won’t you let me say a few more words to you? Why are you rushing me away?”

A powerful force surged from behind again. Her body became increasingly full.

The roaring sound of the Angry River gradually faded. The light ahead grew brighter and brighter, stabbing painfully at one’s eyes.

Yan Sanhe’s heart was reluctant, but she could only walk forward with tear-blurred eyes.

Just as she was about to reach the bridge’s end, she suddenly saw a woman by the side, taking someone’s pulse.

The woman slowly raised her head.

In that instant.

Heaven and earth were utterly silent, without even a thread of wind.

Only in each other’s eyes—the other’s face.

The face in Yan Sanhe’s eyes wasn’t any peerless beauty. Wind and frost had left heavy traces on this face.

This was Shen Duruo.

She is my mother.

Yan Sanhe wiped away tears.

Mother doesn’t like crying.

Shen Duruo tossed aside the silver needles and walked toward Yan Sanhe. When she reached a few steps away, she stopped and opened her arms.

Yan Sanhe rushed forward, burrowed into her embrace, and held on tightly.

A faint herbal scent entered her nose.

Yan Sanhe wept silently.

So this is what Mother smells like.

It smells so good!

Shen Duruo stroked her daughter’s back with her hand, over and over.

Yan Sanhe gently nuzzled her face against Mother’s neck, over and over, so attached, so intimate, so… satisfied.

No one spoke.

All the words were in this embrace.

Child, I’m sorry. Mother abandoned you.

Mother, it’s all right.

These eighteen years, my daughter has suffered.

Not bitter, truly, not bitter at all.

At this moment, a figure appeared at the end of the light.

That person was tall and thin, with a pair of peach-blossom eyes and shallow dimples at the corners of his mouth, anxiously looking toward the bridge.

Shen Duruo gently pushed her daughter.

Yan Sanhe refused to let go, not just holding tightly—she held even more forcefully.

Shen Duruo smiled: “Silly child, one day, Mother will come to bring you home.”

“No.”

“Be good!”

“No!”

“He’s waiting for you!”

“No!”

Yan Sanhe stubbornly repeated these two words.

These two words sounded so wonderful. In her long eighteen years, she had never said them so freely, so willfully.

But at this moment, her hands suddenly felt empty. The person she was holding vanished, and the bridge vanished too.

Her legs lost their footing, her body rapidly falling downward, falling down.

“Mother—”

Yan Sanhe cried out loudly and suddenly opened her eyes.

“Dong—”

“Dong—”

The bells of the Four-Nine City rang out in that instant.

One toll.

Two tolls.

Countless tolls…

—

Sorry for the long wait. These two chapters are nearly five thousand characters.

When I first designed Yan Sanhe’s heart demons, this final farewell scene was already in my mind.

Not tragic, but warm. In life, no matter how bitter, there is always hope.