Yu Lingyin drifted into a drowsy sleep. When she next regained awareness, she was in a warm, fragrant embrace. A gentle voice hummed a soft lullaby, calling her “Baby, baby…”
She slowly opened her eyes and saw a young woman gazing at her with tender warmth, her soft fingers gently touching her cheek, full of love.
The woman’s eyes held only her, her movements so delicate as if she were some rare treasure.
Even so, Yu Lingyin didn’t let down her guard. She instinctively shifted—only to realize she’d become a newborn infant, unable even to lift her arms. She stared at the woman for a long time before a vague guess formed in her mind.
Then Yu Lingxin’s face appeared beside her, and she finally confirmed it.
The one holding her was her mother—
How absurd—a daughter couldn’t even recognize her own mother. At moments like this, Yu Lingyin wanted to tear Yu Lingxin apart.
If it weren’t for the fact that the entire palace contained only a few poorly drawn portraits by her so-called father—so crude you couldn’t even recognize the face—she wouldn’t have failed to recognize her own mother.
She wanted to smile at her mother, but her body didn’t seem to obey; she inexplicably yawned instead.
“Sweetie, sleepy again.” Jiang Nong gently touched her little face and bent down to kiss her.
Her mother was so gentle, her embrace so warm—just as the nannies who’d raised her had said: an exceptionally gentle and beautiful woman who loved her deeply.
If not for Yu Lingxin, she wouldn’t have died so young, nor passed away in sorrow.
All her life, everyone had told her that her parents loved each other deeply—but her mother had tragically fallen ill and passed away, and her father had turned white overnight, nearly lost his sight, and never remarried or took concubines, raising her alone.
Yu Lingyin had grown up believing this. So even without memories of her mother, she never doubted she was the happiest child—that her mother must be watching over her and her father from heaven.
It wasn’t until after her father’s death, after losing her only family, that she fell into a period of grief, then gradually took on his burdens. Years later, she slowly uncovered the truth.
What loving couple? It was all a lie.
Her mother had been taken into the palace by force and died of poison less than three years later. Her mother and father hadn’t even had a good relationship—they could barely stand each other.
At first, Yu Lingyin couldn’t believe it—like a blow to the head. But the more she investigated, the clearer the evidence became. She couldn’t deceive herself.
Twenty years of warmth and affection had been torn away, revealing the festering, bloody truth beneath. That was far harder to accept than Yu Lingxin’s death.
The only reason she’d been able to pull herself together was because she’d believed she had two loving parents—that they’d been reunited in death, and that she was the legacy of their love, meant to carry it forward.
But everything told her that Yu Lingxin had lied to her!
She was a child born of resentment—not love, only hatred! Yu Lingyin’s world collapsed, and she fell gravely ill.
After Yu Lingxin had entered the underground palace, it was sealed off. Yu Lingyin couldn’t bear to disturb her parents’ rest, so she’d declared it a forbidden area, only visiting to pay her respects.
When she recovered, her first order was to blast open the underground palace gates.
Even though she couldn’t bring herself to do anything to Yu Lingxin’s remains—out of gratitude for all those years of care and for leaving her everything—she couldn’t accept him being buried with her mother.
Her mother had died with her eyes open, unable to rest in peace. Should she be denied peace even in death?
But for every measure, there was a countermeasure. Yu Lingxin had likely anticipated she’d discover the truth. Beneath the entire underground palace, only his own body lay—frozen in a strange posture on the ground, a faint smile still on his lips.
Yu Lingyin found a letter he’d left for her, telling her not to waste her effort—he had already become one with her mother.
How devious! She should have known he’d do something like this.
Even if she cremated his body, she couldn’t separate their ashes from the pile! This whole scheme was to guard against her!
The underground palace was not a place to linger—the cold made her sneeze repeatedly, and the walls covered in runes sent chills down her spine.
In the end, she cremated Yu Lingxin’s remains and scattered the ashes into the river. A hundred streams flow to the sea, the world vast and wide—if her mother wished, let the river carry her away from Yu Lingxin and set her free.
Yu Lingyin didn’t know how she’d ended up here—she’d only closed her eyes and fallen asleep. This felt too real to be a dream. Had she returned to a time before her mother died?
Her heart leaped with joy—but it faded quickly. At this time, had her mother already been poisoned?
But her mother’s complexion was rosy and healthy—it seemed not yet.
This time, she had to help her mother escape Yu Lingxin.
Since the fate of a bitter couple was to die together, it was better for her mother to leave Yu Lingxin—at least she’d be happy.
A child’s body tired easily. She’d only been thinking for a short while before she was already drifting off to sleep in her mother’s fragrant embrace.
Seeing the baby was asleep, Jiang Nong gently laid her in the cradle, tucked the blanket around her, and gave her a kiss.
The baby had a sweet milky scent—Jiang Nong breathed it in deeply.
How many children one would have, whether they’d be boys or girls, and when they’d come—it was all said to be fated. Yu Lingxin had tried every possible way to prevent it, yet Jiang Nong still gave birth to this daughter at the same time as in the previous life. Not only did she look the same, even her birthmarks were identical—rendering all his efforts as useless as puppy farts.
All that effort, for nothing.
Jiang Nong kissed Xiaoman several times, then thought of Yu Lingxin lingering nearby. She called him over softly: “Look—her face is so round, like a peach. Come kiss her too, she’s so soft.”
Yu Lingxin only kissed her, refusing to kiss Yu Lingyin. He said: “Men and women shouldn’t be too familiar—so I won’t kiss her.”
Jiang Nong: ???
Stingy. Yu Lingxin was stingy.
“You really don’t like her?”
How could he dare say no? Even if he truly didn’t like her, he had to pretend. With a forced smile, he brushed Yu Lingyin’s hair, looking almost affectionate: “I like her.”
Jiang Nong studied his expression, trying to find a crack—and failed.
It seemed his affection wasn’t entirely fake. What father wouldn’t love his own child?
Besides, if he truly didn’t like her, why would he leave everything to her?
Yu Lingxin smiled at his sleeping daughter.
How wonderful. Why did she have to appear again? How many more years would he have to wait before this child finally left their happy little home?
It was going to be a long haul.
He really wanted to plant her somewhere and just be done with it.
No, can’t think that way. If Jiang Nong finds out, I’m finished.
Yu Lingyin had thought that even though her body was small, her mind was still an adult’s—no big deal. But this body clearly didn’t match her soul. Not only couldn’t she stand, even speaking only produced bubbles. Just keeping her eyes open to look at her mother a little longer left her drowsy.
It turned out human development followed objective laws—a sprout couldn’t bear fruit, and a newborn couldn’t control its actions.
So Yu Lingyin was stuck in a cycle of eating, sleeping, and growing stronger, gradually staying awake for longer periods.
Since she couldn’t do anything else, she focused on keeping her parents apart.
Whenever she caught even a glimpse of Yu Lingxin in her peripheral vision, she’d start wailing—heart-wrenching, full-throated cries.
Her little face would scrunch up, turning red as a monkey’s, her voice going hoarse—pitiful beyond words. And those cries were deafening, audible for half a li in every direction.
The moment Yu Lingxin left, she’d calm down.
How could Jiang Nong bear to let her cry like that? She’d gently pat her, telling Yu Lingxin to go farther away.
It was utterly unreasonable—was he some kind of filth?
Let her cry—could she cry herself to death?
Yu Lingxin was furious but dared not defy Jiang Nong. He had no choice but to back away.
Yu Lingyin felt she’d achieved something great. If her mother couldn’t see Yu Lingxin, she’d probably be much happier.
She sniffled and stopped crying—only to notice her mother didn’t seem very happy at all. Instead, she looked worriedly toward where Yu Lingxin had left.
Yu Lingyin understood again—her mother was still in the palace, still under Yu Lingxin’s control, still unfree. That’s why she remained unhappy. No matter—once she grew up, she would definitely help her mother escape Yu Lingxin’s clutches!
Thinking this, she tugged at her mother’s finger, hiccupping from crying, and gave her a comforting smile.
Jiang Nong’s heart melted—but she couldn’t help feeling a headache coming on.
Xiaoman cried whenever she was away from her for even a moment, and cried whenever she saw Yu Lingxin. As a result, their time together had shrunk to almost nothing. But in the previous life, Xiaoman hadn’t been this averse to him?
Something felt off. She couldn’t help thinking about supernatural explanations—wondering if Yu Lingxin had brought back something unclean from the previous life.
Yu Lingxin had snuck back while the child was asleep. Jiang Nong pressed a finger to her lips, signaling him to be quiet and not wake the baby.
This time, he was genuinely wronged. He was her lawfully wedded husband, and now he felt like a secret lover—how undignified.
Passing by Yu Lingyin’s cradle, he rolled his eyes fiercely when Jiang Nong wasn’t looking.
If Yu Lingyin could cry, Yu Lingxin could cry too.
A child’s crying was messy and unrefined. His was far more polished—after all, it was a skill honed over many years, specifically for dealing with Jiang Nong. Tears like pear blossoms in rain, head tilted slightly to one side, delicate and broken, pitifully beautiful—anyone would have to admit it was masterful tea-pouring.
“I just miss you so much. I can’t see you. We’ve never been apart since we married. And I’m useless—I can’t help you with anything.” He lowered his head slightly, tears falling in perfect round droplets without smearing his face, all while massaging her shoulders and arms.
“Xiaoman is easy to care for—and there are plenty of people helping me. She just eats and sleeps. Don’t cry. Maybe she’ll grow out of it. Actually, I think we should have someone look at her—why does she only cry when she sees you? Something doesn’t feel right.”
Jiang Nong knew he could fake tears on command—she’d been fooled many times. Yet she still fell for it, willingly. She reached up to wipe his tears. He nodded eagerly: “Whatever you say.”
Half-asleep, Yu Lingyin vaguely heard Yu Lingxin’s voice. She opened her eyes groggily—and saw her perpetually cold, sinister father, trying to make himself smaller, nestling “delicately” in her mother’s arms, weeping.
And her mother—didn’t push him away. She even kissed him.
Yu Lingyin closed her eyes again. She must not have woken up properly—this had to be a dream.
Leave a Reply