Bo Wang slowly turned his head, his gaze settling on her with a dark, unfathomable depth that seemed to pull the light from the room.
“My dear girl, listen to me,” Ding Yujun pressed, her voice thick with earnest concern. “Your body simply cannot weather any more strain. Though your anemia has seen some improvement, you are still treading on thin ice. You and this child—you only have one life between you. Grandma has walked this path before; I can safeguard you in a way no one else can.”
The Old Lady was a master of reason, far more grounded than the volatile Bo Wang. She was certain the girl would choose the sanctuary of her wisdom.
“…”
Lu Zhiling lay in the silence, her eyes wide and searching. A part of her yearned for the quiet of the Wutong [Phoenix Tree] Courtyard; it would be a reprieve, a way to untangle the messy, suffocating knots of her relationship with the man beside her.
Suddenly, the duvet was yanked back from her face. She looked up into Bo Wang’s dark, predatory eyes. His voice was deep, humming with a magnetic pull that vibrated in the air between them. “Tell me then… who is it you want to be with?”
The question sounded gentle, almost soft, but the underlying tension was like a coiled spring.
Lu Zhiling’s gaze flickered between him and Ding Yujun. The Old Lady looked back with eyes full of maternal hope, radiating a promise of peace. Lu Zhiling’s heart wavered; she almost reached out for that safety.
Bo Wang let out a sudden, sharp laugh—a sound that was both wicked and chillingly sinister. He ran his tongue over his back teeth, his eyes flashing with a twisted, freezing light. “It’s quite alright. Go with whomever you please. I won’t force a woman to stay. It’s not as if I can’t find others outside these walls to fill the space.”
The threat was naked and jagged. Lu Zhiling stared into the abyss of his eyes, searching for a lie, but she only found a deepening, dangerous mirth.
After a heartbeat of suffocating silence, Lu Zhiling sat up. With an air of quiet obedience, she wrapped her arms around Bo Wang’s arm, snuggling her frail frame against his side. She looked at Ding Yujun with an apologetic, weary softness. “Grandma… I still want to be with Bo Wang.”
Bo Wang’s head snapped toward his grandmother, a sharp, smug glint of triumph flaring in his eyes.
“You…” Ding Yujun sighed, a mix of exasperation and pity crossing her face. “This is your own health you’re gambling with. Fine. If you two are determined to be joined at the hip, there is nothing more I can say.”
She remembered the girl from two months ago who wanted nothing but her family’s old estate. Now, she was this clingy. It seems Zhiling has finally fallen for him, the Old Lady thought with a heavy heart.
Waving a hand in defeat, Ding Yujun retreated, though not without firing off a final volley of commands: no strain, no kissing, and ideally, no physical contact whatsoever.
The moment the door clicked shut, Bo Wang’s hand snaked out, gripping Lu Zhiling’s chin. He claimed her lips with a wanton, punishing intensity.
“Are you that terrified of me finding another woman?” he murmured against her mouth, his eyes searching hers, convinced his threat had broken her.
Lu Zhiling had no energy for his games, but she knew how to play her part. She met his gaze steadily. “I’m not afraid. You said yourself… you’d ‘get me’ before you ever thought of anyone else.”
“And if I change my mind?” he challenged, his thumb stroking her jaw.
Then go ahead, she thought. I wouldn’t stop you. Aloud, her long eyelashes fluttered as she spoke with a slow, ethereal grace. “Then I suppose I cannot help it. My greatest hope for you, Bo Wang, has never changed. I don’t seek to possess you; I only want you to live happily, freely, and to protect our child in the days to come.”
That same haunting sentiment again.
Bo Wang’s gaze hardened into flint. He leaned down, pressing two firm, lingering kisses to her lips. “Wait here. I’ll check the surveillance for you.”
Lu Zhiling’s eyes flickered with a sudden, sharp clarity. “Thank you.”
“But listen,” he added, his voice dropping an octave. “After I check, don’t you dare act like that Nu Gui [female ghost] you were last night. It annoyed the hell out of me.”
Was I really that bothersome? she wondered. Does he only want me when I am a moon revolving around his sun? “I understand,” she whispered.
“Good. Sleep.” He pulled the heavy silk blanket over her shoulders, suppressing his own darker urges for the sake of the pregnancy.
Lu Zhiling lay in the dim light, her spirit feeling like a fading ember.
A week passed in the stillness of the bedroom until Lu Zhiling felt as though her soul was beginning to mold. Unable to endure the confinement any longer, she threw off the covers and walked to the window. Deep in the mountain range, the world was a vibrant, refreshing green, the sky a clear, washed sapphire.
Today was the seventh day—the Tou Qi [the seventh day after death, when the soul returns] of Gu Na.
She moved to the dressing room. Her reflection was a ghost—pale, haggard, and hollow. She bypassed the bright silks and selected a dark, flowing satin midi-skirt that brushed her ankles. She reached for a black top, but mindful of the Bo family’s superstitions, she chose a deep, forest-green silk instead.
Standing before the mirror, she fastened her belt. Her slightly protruding belly was a secret hidden beneath the elegant folds of the fabric. She smoothed her hair, a cold, resolute steel creeping into her eyes. In this vast, empty world, she was alone—but she would not be a victim.
She descended to the first floor. Three maids were cleaning a corner of the grand hall; the moment they saw her, they bowed with a sudden, sharp respect: “Young Madam.”
Lu Zhiling offered a detached nod. Behind her, the maids huddled to gossip. “Incredible, isn’t it? A blind girl gets her sight back, the Young Master claims her publicly, and the Old Lady stays up all night for her. She’s finally secured her seat as the Matriarch.”
“Fate is a strange thing,” another whispered. “Born an heiress, and now the Young Mistress of the Bo family. Some people are just born into Fu Gui [wealth and honor].”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” a third hissed. “She’s not on the Zu Pu [family genealogy] yet. Look at Madam Xia—she was pampered once too, and look at her now.”
Lu Zhiling ignored the poison. she sat on the sofa, gazing at the insurmountable dome of the mansion. It was a palace of priceless details, so magnificent that the rot and dust were perfectly concealed.
“Young Mistress,” Wen Da called out, rushing toward her. “Are you feeling stronger?”
“Yes,” she replied simply.
“Excellent.” He produced a leather-bound notebook. “Here is the gift list—congratulations on the marriage announcement. Everyone in Jiangbei is scrambling to curry favor now that the Young Master has consolidated SG Entertainment.”
Lu Zhiling scanned the names. She almost laughed. Even the Wang and Ming families—who had once torn her apart at the charity gala—had sent lavish tributes. Her old classmates were falling over themselves to flatter her.
“Butler Wen…” A maid hurried in, glancing at Lu Zhiling before speaking. “The second miss of the Ji family, Ji Manshi, and the fourth young master, Ji Jing, have arrived to see the Young Mistress.”
“Please, bring them in,” Lu Zhiling directed.
Ji Manshi entered, her black dress accented by a single red rose—a somber, respectful choice. Her eyes were red and swollen from days of weeping. Ji Jing followed, a silk box tucked under one arm while the other supported his sister. “Steady now,” he whispered. “This is the Bo home. If you break down here, our Matriarch will have to come make amends.”
Ji Manshi nodded, her eyes catching Lu Zhiling’s. She was struck by how fragile the other woman looked—haggard and drained.
Suddenly, Ji Jing lunged forward with dramatic flair. Snap! He dropped to one knee on the polished floor, a wide, shameless smile on his face. “Sister-in-law! I was blind to your brilliance before. I was a fool, a brat! Please, don’t hold the mistakes of a ‘child’ like me against me!”
Lu Zhiling stared at him, speechless. This “child” was clearly older than her. She turned to Ji Manshi, ignoring the kneeling man. “Miss Ji, please, sit.”
“Ji Jing, get up…” Ji Manshi hissed with pure disdain. “How embarrassing!”
Ji Jing remained on his knee, thrusting the box forward. “An enamel double-eared vase! One of only two left in the world! I spent days hounding a collector for this. Please, Sister-in-law, accept it!”
When she didn’t move, he began to babble. “Look at the mountains! Look at the poetry! It’s art! You don’t like it? I’ll get the stars for you! Just say the word!”
“I like it. Thank you. You can get up now.” Lu Zhiling motioned for Wen Da to take the gift just to make him stop.
“Where’s Wang Ge [Older Brother Wang]?” Ji Jing asked, finally standing. “Is he not here?”
“He’s finalizing the SG shares,” she replied. Today, the power shift was being carved in stone.
“We heard you were unwell,” Ji Manshi said, her voice trembling slightly. She skipped the pleasantries and pulled a black velvet box from her bag. “This is for you.”
Lu Zhiling opened it. Inside were two dazzling wedding rings.
She remembered Gu Na’s final wish: [Manshi will make a pair of rings from my ashes. When you travel to Jiangnan, please place them under Lu Jingcheng’s tombstone for me… it will be as if I am accompanying him.]
The box felt as heavy as a mountain in her palm. The redness in her eyes deepened.
“Nana left me a letter,” Ji Jing said, his usual bravado fading into a sigh. “She kept telling me to check on you. She was so afraid her death would break you.”
Lu Zhiling remained silent, her fingers white-knuckled against the velvet.
“You mustn’t blame yourself,” Ji Manshi whispered. “I’ve known Nana for years. This was her Ming Yun [destiny]. It didn’t matter that you cast her in the film. Even if she never knew your brother loved her, once her hatred burned out, she would have ended up here. She loved him too much. She couldn’t breathe in a world without him.”
Ji Manshi reached out gently. “It is better to die for love, knowing the truth, than to live in a lie.”
Lu Zhiling gripped the box and stood, bowing deeply. “Thank you, Miss Ji.”
“It’s only right for a friend—”
“No,” Lu Zhiling interrupted. “Thank you for staying by her side all those years. For making sure my Sister-in-law wasn’t alone in her pain.”
“Sister-in-law?” Ji Manshi froze, then a fresh wave of tears broke. She smiled through them. “That’s… that’s wonderful. If Nana knows the Lu family finally accepts her, she must be so happy.”
The siblings stayed a while longer before departing. Lu Zhiling sat alone, staring at the rings. She had another piece of the past to carry back to Jiangnan—if she lived to see the journey.
“Butler Wen,” she called out. “When will Father be home?”
“Sir is occupied. It’s hard to say.” Wen Da looked at her curiously. “Is it urgent?”
“I’ll wait,” she said, her eyes fixed on the grand entrance. “I’ll wait right here.”
The sun dipped below the peaks, and the shadows grew long.
Bo Zhengrong finally entered, followed closely by Yu Yunfei—returning from a shopping trip—and Xia Meiqing, who had just fetched young Bo Zhen from school. The timing was impeccable, a cold choreography of the family’s return.
As they entered the hall, they saw Lu Zhiling. She sat perfectly upright, a document in her hand, her dark hair spilling over her shoulder like a silken waterfall. Despite her paleness, her presence was undeniable.
Even Yu Yunfei, a veteran of high-society poise, felt a twinge of envy. Many women were beautiful, but Lu Zhiling possessed a rare, innate nobility—the kind of Qi Zhi [temperament/aura] that could only be forged in the fires of an old-money upbringing.
“Father,” Lu Zhiling said, standing and bowing. “Aunt Yu. Aunt Xia.”
Bo Zhen leaned against his mother, looking at Lu Zhiling. For the first time, he found her somewhat agreeable. The dress suited her.
Xia Meiqing, however, sneered. “What is this? A black dress on such a fine day? And that face… you look like an omen of bad luck.”
Bo Zhengrong gave a curt nod and moved to walk past her.
“Father, I need a word,” Lu Zhiling’s voice was calm, but it held the weight of an anchor. “It is important.”
The patriarch paused. He handed his coat to Wen Da and sat in the central sofa, unbuttoning his cuffs. “Speak,” he resonated.
The two aunts settled in like spectators at a play. Xia Meiqing claimed the seat to his left, while Yu Yunfei sat opposite Lu Zhiling, watching intently.
“Father, I have something for you to see.”
Lu Zhiling placed a tablet on the coffee table and pressed play. “The actor Qiao Yang tried to assault me during the auditions. Bo Wang stopped him, but after he was hospitalized, someone went to visit him. This video clearly shows that Qiao Yang was acting on Aunt Xia’s instructions. The goal was to sow discord between me and my husband.”
On the screen, Qiao Yang was seen whispering with one of Xia Meiqing’s personal bodyguards.
Bo Zhen’s eyes went wide. Xia Meiqing’s face turned a violent shade of green. Her plan had failed, and she had sent men to silence the actor—she never dreamed Lu Zhiling had been shadows and whispers, filming everything from the dark.
“You…” Xia Meiqing hissed, her eyes darting like a trapped animal’s.