Deep in the cave abode.
I was alone in the empty woodshed, leaning against the pile of firewood behind me.
Dry branches pressed against my back, while emotional discomfort mingled with physical pain.
The latter was gradually suppressing the dull ache in my heart.
Against my will, I recalled the words my daughter had just sobbed out in a furious outburst as she left.
How could my heart not ache?
But I hated it even more. I hated that she had turned out this way.
And I hated myself for being unable to teach her.
The woodshed had never been meant to welcome such a peerless beauty... Yet here she was, lying on the pile of firewood. Her stunning white dress was already smeared with dirt from the shed, making her look even more like a crabapple blossom on the verge of withering—a sight that shattered the heart into shards of glass.
As if I couldn't feel any pain at all, I leaned back slightly in a self-tormenting gesture and closed my eyes wearily.
I couldn't help thinking about Ye Ranxing.
The dull ache of replaying everything over and over made me try to imagine how she had felt that night.
I wanted so badly to step into her world, yet I didn't know how.
So I could only try, clumsily, to feel what she felt, again and again.
I had never thought of giving up on Ranxing. What I'd done today was mostly out of helplessness: I was frustrated that she'd failed to live up to her potential, and furious at her for refusing to mend her ways...
Suddenly, I sighed.
I hoped she would reflect on things this time.
"Mother."
Creak.
The old wooden door slowly opened with a rough groan.
A small figure stood silently in the