Chapter 5: The Soul's Cage and a Resolute End

When An Yilin opened her eyes again, the entire room was so quiet you could have heard a leaf fall.

She didn't cry, didn't make a fuss, didn't even show a single unnecessary expression. Those eyes that had once been full of vivacity and starlight were now hollow as a well that no light could reach.

The nurse stepped in softly, gently asking if she wanted a sip of water; she gave no response. Xia Xingcheng, eyes red, gripped her ice-cold hand tightly, fingers trembling; An Yilin simply let her hold it, her gaze fixed numbly on the pure white ceiling the whole time.

It was as if she had used some invisible lock to seal her own soul, heavily and permanently, inside that instant of the blood-soaked wedding, leaving behind only a body that still breathed, that still blinked, remaining in this world. The new life in her womb, just barely a month along and still unstable, had now become the An family's most closely guarded secret, handled with the utmost care — while she herself seemed to know nothing of it at all.

After being discharged, An Yilin began a strange ritual.

Every day, she would go to the area near Li Yu'en's home.

She never went in, never rang the bell, never even tried to approach that familiar alley.

She only stood far away, alone, in the shade of a tree across the street, like a statue with no sensation, gazing at that house she had once walked into with such joy, countless times before. She watched the faint light seeping through the curtains, watched the Li family's tightly shut front door, standing there in the cold wind for the better part of a day.

That posture was like waiting for someone she knew perfectly well would never come.

Xia Xingcheng and Gu Yanxi, worried sick, had dropped everything to take turns staying by her side. But more often than not, what sat parked in the shadows across the street was a low-key yet bulletproof black sedan, along with the grim-faced An Jingche and a full line of black-suited bodyguards.

As the core of the underworld, An Jingche could have handled such nuisances a thousand ways. But seeing his sister in this broken, soulless state, all he could do was suppress the violence boiling in his chest and, in the most silent way possible, serve as her most unshakable shield.

And yet, neither of their concessions bought them any understanding.

Every time the Li family came and went through their door, the instant Lin Shuhua caught sight of that black figure across the street, every hair on her body would bristle instantly, and she would charge over like lit dynamite, hysterically cursing and striking.

"You still dare to come here! You're the murderer who killed my son!"

"You're covered in my son's blood, how do you still have the nerve to stand here!"

"Get out of my sight! Get out of my family's sight! I'd rather die than see your face again!"

Faced with the piercing curses, the handbags and slaps flying at her, An Yilin didn't so much as blink.

She didn't dodge, didn't flinch, and never once opened her mouth to argue. She simply stood there, numb, letting Lin Shuhua's sharp nails rake across her cheek, letting those words crueler than any blade smash into her again and again. Her cheek flushed red time after time from the blows, yet she only kept her eyes lowered, as if that pain weren't happening to her at all — or perhaps, physical pain was the only proof left to her that she was still alive.

"Enough!"

An Jingche's tall frame moved like a phantom to block An Yilin from view, his face — one that had endured military training and years steeped in the bloodiest corners of the underworld — now covered in a killing frost. He never forgot that Li Yu'en had died saving Song Yunze, nor did he forget the Li family's grief at losing someone so dear, and so he forced down every ounce of underworld ruthlessness in him, never once striking back at Lin Shuhua.

His large hand, knuckles sharp and defined, caught Lin Shuhua's swinging palm precisely in midair, the force restrained but leaving no room for resistance. The black-suited bodyguards behind him closed ranks in an instant too, forming an impenetrable wall of bodies, keeping An Yilin firmly shielded at its very center, cut off from any physical harm.

But while they could block the slaps, they couldn't block the curses that pierced straight through the wall of bodies, each one more venomous than the last.

Lin Shuhua wept until she collapsed onto the ground, her eyes filled with nothing but frenzied hatred. In the eyes of this mother who had lost her beloved son, only by dragging An Yilin down into the same abyss of suffering could she barely find some thread to hold onto in order to keep living.

And behind the wall of bodyguards, An Yilin remained, as always, like a puppet stripped of its voice, standing silently amid the curses in a way that broke the heart.

[Rupture and an Ending]

On the day they sent Li Yu'en off, the sky hung heavy and dark, a continuous drizzle pressing the entire world down into a suffocating layer of gray.

The funeral procession, the cremation, the interment — the whole process was so heavy it left everyone breathless.

An Yilin had changed out of her white and now wore a sharply tailored, lifeless black dress, her face pale to the point of transparency.

She didn't cry out loud, only stood, escorted by An Jingche and his bodyguards, far off, humbly, at the very outer edge of the crowd at the funeral home. Rain slid down her hair; it was impossible to tell whether it was tears or rain.

She didn't dare go any closer.

Nor would the Li family ever allow her to touch a single one of Li Yu'en's belongings.

Just as the final ceremony ended and the crowd was about to disperse, Lin Shuhua, her eyes bloodshot, turned and once again caught sight of that black figure.

In that instant, days of accumulated exhaustion, grief, and resentment finally spiraled completely out of control. Lin Shuhua shoved aside the hands trying to support her and, like an enraged mother beast, charged straight forward, raising her hand to strike hard at An Yilin's pale face!

"It's all because of you—!"

But this time, before Lin Shuhua's hand could fall, her wrist was caught in midair by a large hand, warm yet hard as iron.

An Jingche's face was grim, his tall figure completely shielding An Yilin from behind. The force in his grip was immense, so immense that Lin Shuhua's furious expression twisted instantly from the searing pain shooting through her wrist.

He looked down at this woman, grief-stricken to the point of madness, standing before him, the cold ruthlessness and authority of the underworld's core no longer hidden in the depths of his eyes. His voice was low, absolute, carrying a verdict that allowed no argument:

"After today, the An and Li families are completely severed."

He spoke each word deliberately, not a trace of concession or sympathy in his dark eyes:

"These past few days, Yilin let you hit her, let you curse at her, out of respect for Yu'en. But there's a limit to anyone's patience. From today onward, everything about Yilin's life — her joys, her sorrows, her health, her very existence — has nothing to do with your Li family, not even the smallest thread."

Lin Shuhua froze completely.

She had never seen An Jingche's eyes look so terrifying, so bloodthirsty. That aura, radiating from deep within his bones — the pressure of a soldier combined with the ruthlessness of the underworld — left the scream that had been rising to her lips stuck fast in her throat.

A flicker of terror crossed her eyes, quickly replaced by something even deeper — a helpless, powerless hatred. But looking at An Jingche's face, cold as ten thousand years of ice, utterly without warmth, and the black-suited bodyguards eyeing her hungrily all around, she knew: the An family meant business.

After a long ten-odd seconds, Lin Shuhua finally clenched her teeth and forced a single word out through gritted teeth:

"Fine."

Her voice was hoarse beyond recognition, choked with broken sobs, yet also carrying a resolve to never look back:

"From today on, whether Yu'en lives or dies, whether he's buried in the earth or ascends to heaven — none of it has anything to do with that An Yilin ever again! None of you An family people will ever set foot through my Li family's door again!"

The moment those words fell, An Yilin, who had been standing behind them like a statue, suddenly swayed slightly.

Through An Jingche's broad shoulders, she looked at Lin Shuhua's face, filled with hatred, and in that moment, her hollow mind seemed to finally understand something.

She and Li Yu'en truly were finished, here and now.

That red carpet, which had been just one step away from leading them hand in hand into old age together, had now been brutally severed. From this point on, the one who would be allowed to burn incense for Li Yu'en, to see him off, would never again be her — the rightful "fiancée." Instead, she had become an outsider, someone who would be treated as an unforgivable sinner merely for speaking his name.

All she could do was stand in this cold curtain of rain, watching from a distance as the ashes belonging to him were sealed away behind cold stone walls, burying, together with them, all her love and all her future, in this bloodstained past she could never return to.