131 The Resentment of an Only Child

By the time she woke again, evening was already approaching. Yun Xueyan checked the sky before rising, only to realize upon standing that her clothes had been changed.

Feng Yihan entered carrying a tray of food. Meeting her questioning gaze, his expression remained unchanged as he walked straight to the table and set the meal down. "I had a local villager change them for you. Don't overthink it."

Hearing this, Yun Xueyan’s face flushed. "Master Feng, thank you for saving me." That was perhaps all she could bring herself to say to the man before her.

"No need. It was merely a trifling effort." Having arranged the dishes, Feng Yihan turned around, his face impassive. "You may stay here for the time being. Once you have recovered, you may leave. However... I will not ask about your affairs, and you are not to concern yourself with mine."

Yun Xueyan was stunned. He was offering her shelter? He did not even ask her identity or her past, as if all people and events were entirely disconnected from him.

"Do not overthink it. I have..." He lowered his eyes to glance at the scar on Yun Xueyan’s face. "...no ulterior motives. Come, eat."

Yun Xueyan did not move, remaining rooted to the spot. His detachment felt like a veil, making him impossible to see clearly. He was not even moved by the scar on her face; there was no disgust, no pity, no emotion at all. She had to admit, he masked himself well.

But she... the pain deep in her heart could not be healed, no matter how she tried to hide it. Her hatred, her resentment! She had nowhere to release them. That single strike had sent her plummeting off the cliff and had completely shattered her heart. The woman she once was had already perished on a lonely, wretched path.

Yun Xueyan gritted her teeth. She could not remain sunk in grief. She had to go back—she had to return!

"Eat." The indifferent voice sounded, pulling Yun Xueyan back to reality.

The two sat at the table eating in silence, though every bite tasted bland, bitter even. Tears began to stream from the corners of her eyes, and Yun Xueyan hurriedly wiped them away.

Feng Yihan continued eating, as if everything happening beside him did not exist. For him, there was no emotion; his heart was already dead, and nothing could stir him.

"Master Feng, could you please buy me a veil tomorrow?" Yun Xueyan said suddenly.

"Yes, and I will bring you some clothes as well." Feng Yihan rose and walked toward the door, acting as if Yun Xueyan were not even there. His life, his entire focus, belonged only to himself. And... the scar buried deep in his heart. He would not let it rest.

Watching Feng Yihan leave, Yun Xueyan suddenly quieted. She sat motionless, licking her wounds. She was awake, and at last, she was truly clear-headed.

From the moment she was struck and sent over the cliff, any bond between her and Duan Nanyu had been severed. Her affection, her love—all had been thoroughly shattered and scattered by the wind as she fell. Now... she was alone. She had no need for further attachments. Having nothing left, she could afford to care for nothing.

Reaching for the paper, brush, and ink nearby, Yun Xueyan took up the brush and wrote three characters on the paper: "Duan Nanyu!" She used all her strength for every stroke, as if venting her hatred. She could not reproach him now, nor could she scold him, but she would never forget these three words! Never!