132 If Possible

Life had become mundane and tranquil, flowing without a ripple.

Under Feng Yihan’s care, Yun Xueyan’s health recovered rapidly. Yet, the two rarely conversed; in all this time, she had barely spoken a dozen words to him.

Feng Yihan had purchased a veil for her, allowing her to conceal her face and venture out to the nearby village. The villagers treated her with great kindness, a courtesy she knew was extended solely because of Feng Yihan.

Feng Yihan had moved here suddenly nine years ago. Though he remained aloof and lived in reclusive seclusion in the mountains, he was gentle toward others, and the villagers held him in high esteem. This earned him a newfound respect in Yun Xueyan’s eyes.

"I heard they’ve posted notices all over the capital, searching for someone like madmen. Both Prince Xiao and Prime Minister Feng have mobilized. I wonder what kind of person it is," Yun Xueyan heard the villagers gossiping as she walked by.

"Indeed. They say it’s a woman. Prince Xiao and Prime Minister Feng have been searching for a long time without a trace, which is why they finally issued a reward," another villager chimed in eagerly.

Her body stiffened abruptly. Her steps faltered, and her chest constricted painfully. She turned and headed back toward the mountains; she did not want to hear any more news from the outside world. She had finally managed to find a semblance of peace—why must they force these things upon her? The pain in her heart spread and surged, threatening to drown her, leaving her unable to catch her breath.

She quickened her pace, only slowing down as she approached the house. She took several deep breaths before stepping inside, her forehead beaded with a fine mist of sweat.

She encountered Feng Yihan sitting in the room, sipping tea. His movements were so elegant that, for a fleeting moment, he reminded her of Feng Xilou.

"Master Feng," she murmured softly, then turned to head toward her own room.

The resentment pent up in her chest felt suffocating. That short walk had felt like an eternity. Thoughts churned in her mind: they were looking for her. Why was Duan Nanyu still searching for her? He had already shattered her last shred of hope, snuffing out even the faint, wispy embers of it.

She felt such hatred! She loathed his ruthlessness, yet he had the audacity to feign concern and come looking for her!

He had pushed her into the abyss of eternal damnation time and again, forcing her to taste the bitterness of purgatory. How could she ever forget? She hated him—she hated him so much that… she was simply exhausted.

"Your complexion is very poor." Feng Yihan stood up and blocked her path, his dark eyes studying her. "You carry too much resentment in your heart, and it is all written on your face."

Taking a deep breath, Yun Xueyan tried to steady herself and compose her emotions. Did she… not have a right to hate?

"Master Feng," she said, her voice rising slightly, "I am tired. May I go in and rest?"

Frowning slightly, Feng Yihan lowered his hand and watched her walk past him into her room.

She did not want to show her hatred so openly, but her grievances were too heavy, too deep. If she had a choice, she would rather not be so exhausted, so pained.

Leaning against the wall, she fought to keep from collapsing. She tried her best to remain calm and not dwell on the past—that past which pierced her heart with such agony.

If only she could… she would rather not remember Duan Nanyu at all. She understood that her hatred for him existed only because he still held a place in her heart, and that realization filled her with dread.

The wind rattled the window frame, and a chill seeped into her body. She could not help but shiver. She… could not go on like this any longer.