Haven't I Suffered Enough Because of You?!

An old straw mat was spread on the floor before the spirit tablet.

Yin Suzhi knelt upon the mat.

Her frame had grown much thinner. Her once-rounded face was now sharp, her cheekbones slightly prominent, her eye sockets deeply sunken, and dark, indelible shadows pooled beneath her eyes.

In just a few short days, this woman seemed to have aged ten years.

Her hands were pressed together before her chest. Her fingers were interlaced, the knuckles clenched so tightly that faint blue veins stood out.

Her eyes were closed.

Her lips moved slightly, murmuring words.

The voice was very soft, so soft, as if she feared disturbing something.

"My child..."

"May you be safe, happy, and free from worry in the afterlife..."

Her voice trembled slightly, each word seemingly scraped bit by bit from the softest depths of her heart.

"No more fighting... no more suffering... no one will ever bully you again..."

A single tear slid from the corner of her tightly shut eye, falling silently onto the straw mat.

"If there is a next life..."

Her voice choked.

"If there is a next life, I hope you are born into a good family..."

"Born into a family... where you have a father's love and a mother's care..."

"Do not come to a place like this again..."

"Do not..."

Her voice finally shattered.

She pressed her hands tightly over her mouth, forcibly stifling the wail that threatened to burst forth.

Her shoulders shook violently.

Silently.

Enduringly.

In this household, she no longer dared to cry aloud.

She feared disturbing others. She feared causing trouble. She feared being called pretentious, weak, or unreasonable.

She could only hide alone in this remote, deserted side room, facing a cold wooden tablet and a small clay figurine—

Swallowing all her longing, all her regret, and all her heartbreak—

Alone, in silence.

Incense smoke curled upward.

The wind outside stirred the window lattice, creating a faint creaking sound.

Yin Suzhi gradually steadied her breathing, pressed her hands together once more, and continued her whispered prayer.

"My child... Mother has failed you..."

"Mother is useless... Mother can do nothing..."

"Mother could not even protect you..."

"It is Mother's fault... it is Mother's fault..."

She repeated these words over and over, like an unconscious murmur, or perhaps an unstoppable form of self-punishment.

The small clay figurine on the spirit tablet, with its two topknots and round face, seemed to be smiling at her.

Yin Suzhi raised her head, gazing at the statue through tear-blurred eyes.

She reached out, trembling, and touched the face of the figurine ever so lightly.

Her fingertips met the cold clay.

It was not warm.

It was not soft.

It was not the little body that would throw itself into her arms, nuzzle her chin with a small head, and call out "Mother" in a milky voice.

Yin Suzhi pulled her hand back.

She closed her eyes.

"My child..."

"Mother misses you..."

—Just then.

"Bang—!!"

A deafening boom exploded inside the small room like a thunderclap!

The door was kicked open violently from the outside!

The entire door panel flew inward under the brutal impact, slammed against the wall, and rebounded with a series of jarring, splintering cracks. Dust rained down from the doorframe.

Yin Suzhi shuddered.

She whipped her head around—

Ning Jing stood in the doorway.

His complexion was ashen and hideous, his eyes bloodshot, and his hair hung in disarray over his forehead. He looked like a trapped beast pushed to the brink with nowhere to vent its rage.

His gaze swept past Yin Suzhi and landed squarely on—

The small shrine in the corner.

The spirit tablet.

The clay figurine.

The incense.

His pupils contracted sharply.

On a face already twisted, every emotion—fear, fury, resentment, agitation—converged in an instant, erupting into a roar that sounded like a soul being torn apart.

"You dare to set up a spirit tablet for this degenerate?!"

The shout struck Yin Suzhi's heart like a sharp blade.

Her body trembled violently, and she instinctively spread her arms to shield the spirit tablet.

"You—what are you doing?!"

Her voice turned shrill with terror, her hoarse throat emitting a jarring pitch.

Ning Jing charged into the room, his gait unsteady and staggering. His eyes were locked onto the spirit tablet, his lids stretched to the point of tearing.

"Setting up a spirit tablet?! You set one up for him?!"

His voice was high-pitched and grating, every word squeezed out from between his teeth.

"It's this degenerate! This degenerate is the reason I'm ruined!"

"I've been stripped of my position! Do you know that?! All of it, every single post, gone!"

"The clan elders said—even if the main line recovers its resources, I'll never get my position back! I'm finished! Everything is over!"

He lunged forward, reaching past Yin Suzhi's obstruction to grab the pine wood spirit tablet.

"No—!"

Yin Suzhi let out a scream, desperately clutching his arm.

"Don't touch him! Don't you dare touch him!!"

Her fingernails dug deep into Ning Jing's arm as she used every ounce of her strength.

"He's already dead! He's already dead! What more do you want?! What more could you possibly want?!!"

Ning Jing flung her aside.

Yin Suzhi's body tumbled from the momentum, the back of her head slamming against the leg of the wooden bed, sending a wave of darkness across her vision.

But she couldn't care about the pain.

She scrambled up, throwing herself back in front of the spirit tablet, shielding the small shrine with her entire body.

"You've lost your mind!! Ning Jing, you're insane!!"

Her face was drenched in tears, her voice raspy to the point of breaking.

"That was your son!! That was your own flesh and blood!!"

Ning Jing stood where he was, his chest heaving, his blood-red eyes fixed on the woman curled up before the spirit tablet.

"Son?"

He let out a cold, sharp laugh.

The sound was uglier than a sob.

"If he were my son, he would have been obedient! He should have gone quietly with the people from the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan and let that Yu Kun vent his anger. Maybe if they were in a good mood, they would have spared his life!"

"But look at him! Playing the hero? Showing off? Cutting flesh? Stripping bone? Slitting his own throat?"

Ning Jing's face was twisted to the extreme.

"When he did those things, did he think of me? Did he think of this family? Did he think of his two brothers? Did he think of the hundreds of people in our branch line?!"

"All he cared about was his own fleeting satisfaction! He just wanted everyone to think he was remarkable! To think he had backbone!"

"But did he ever stop to think—what happens to those of us still alive after he's dead?!"

Every word was like a nail driven into Yin Suzhi's heart.

She lay prone before the spirit tablet, trembling uncontrollably.

Large tears fell one after another, soaking the prayer mat on the floor.

"He was only seven..." Her voice was so fractured it was barely audible. "He was only seven... he didn't understand anything..."

"He only wanted to save someone... he just couldn't stand by and watch..."

"He did nothing wrong... from beginning to end... he did nothing wrong..."

But Ning Jing could not take in a word of this right now.

His heart had long since been swallowed by fear, agitation, and rage.

He said only one thing.

His tone turned cold and rigid.

"Take down this spirit tablet."

Yin Suzhi snapped her head up.

"Impossible!"

"Take it down!" Ning Jing's voice rose sharply. "Have you gone mad?! Or are you determined to make my life miserable?! If the clan elders see you setting up a spirit tablet for him here—what will they think?!"

"They will think that I, Ning Jing, am still pining for that wretched brat! They will think I have no heart for repentance! By then, I won't even have this last shred of a place to stay!"

"Is it not enough that you've already ruined me?!"