Wen Shiyi’s heart leapt in alarm. She hurried forward, pulling Sui Changle into her arms and shooing the maids out of the room.
She gently patted Changle’s back, her voice soft:
“Le’er, what’s wrong? Who has wronged you? Tell Mother, and I will make sure justice is done.”
Sui Changle buried herself in her mother’s embrace, tears flowing like a dam breaking, soaking Wen Shiyi’s clothes.
It had been five long years since she last saw her mother. Every time she longed for her, all that met her eyes was a cold, lonely grave.
Changle greedily inhaled her mother’s familiar scent, felt the warmth of her body, as if in a dream.
Wen Shiyi looked at her crying daughter with deep anguish, taking out a handkerchief to gently wipe the tears from Changle’s eyes, murmuring:
“Le’er, don’t cry. Mother’s heart breaks seeing you like this. Whatever grievances you have, tell Mother. I will always protect you.”
Sui Changle gradually stopped sobbing, lifting her gaze to Wen Shiyi. A flood of words pressed at her heart, but she didn’t know where to start.
“Mother, I…”
She opened her mouth, then stopped.
Such cruelty—how could her mother bear to hear it?
Yet if she didn’t speak, she would fight alone, and surely be schemed against again.
Her mother, after all, trusted her father completely—how could she protect herself against him?
Wen Shiyi noticed her daughter hesitating and was shocked.
In just half a day apart, her once carefree, innocent daughter seemed completely changed.
Her eyes no longer shone with happiness and trust; instead, they were filled with the weight of hardships.
Wen Shiyi’s heart tightened with worry and panic:
“Le’er, what happened? Speak slowly—tell Mother everything.”
The two sat down together. Seeing Changle’s hesitation, she continued:
“Or perhaps we wait for your father to return and tell him. No one dares anger our precious Le’er, I promise we won’t let him.”
At the mention of “father,” Sui Changle’s heart jolted. She gripped her mother’s hand and shook her head violently:
“No, Mother! I won’t tell him.”
Her hatred for Sui Jingxing ran deep—she no longer even wanted to call him father.
Wen Shiyi was puzzled by her daughter’s unusual behavior. Le’er had always been close to her father—was he the one who angered her?
Smiling, she patted Changle’s hand and coaxed gently:
“All right, all right. We won’t tell him.”
Relieved yet still trembling from half a day of tears and fear, Changle finally calmed down a little.
She lowered her gaze, lost in thought, while Wen Shiyi patiently sat beside her.
After a long pause, Sui Changle looked up, taking a deep breath. Her eyes were resolute:
“Mother, if I tell you that I have returned, reborn, will you believe me?”
Wen Shiyi widened her eyes, incredulous, touching her forehead:
“Le’er, have you been dreaming? How could such nonsense make sense?”
What was with her today? Perhaps she startled herself in sleep.
Seeing her mother’s disbelief, Changle’s tears threatened to fall again:
“Mother, I do not lie. I truly have returned, reborn once more.”
Wen Shiyi trembled, the handkerchief slipping from her grasp:
“Le’er, such a strange, impossible tale—how am I to believe you?”
Her mind was in chaos, unwilling to accept yet unable to dismiss her daughter’s words.
Seeing her mother’s doubt, Changle steeled herself:
“Mother, listen carefully. All I say can be verified in time—you will see I do not lie. If we do not prepare ourselves now, we will meet the same tragic end as before.”
Wen Shiyi’s expression shifted between shock and uncertainty. At the mention of their potential tragic fate, she pulled her daughter tightly into her arms:
“Le’er, you tell Mother. I believe you.”
Changle nodded and slowly recounted her past life.
Wen Shiyi’s face grew paler with each word.
Though difficult to accept, her daughter’s words were precise and convincing.
Her voice trembling, Wen Shiyi asked cautiously:
“Le’er, is everything you say true?”
Changle nodded firmly:
“Mother, absolutely true. Now that I have returned, I will protect you fully, and make those who harmed us pay.”
Wen Shiyi held her daughter’s hands tightly, her expression dazed.
The husband she once thought so devoted, who had shared their lives in harmony, had a wife and children elsewhere and maintained a concubine in the capital.
How could this be?
Was all the tenderness of the past years an act?
The thought sent a shiver down Wen Shiyi’s spine.
If what Changle said was true, then the man she called her devoted husband was a wolf in human skin.
Changle squeezed her mother’s hands, her heart aching.
She had no regret in revealing the truth—better to awaken now than die helplessly under someone else’s scheme.
“Mother… will you believe me?”
Wen Shiyi’s gaze cleared, resolute:
“Le’er, Mother believes you. But we must plan carefully.”
She could not take Changle’s word alone—everything had to be investigated.
Changle understood this, realizing her impatience had to be tempered:
“Mother, the concubine and her children are kept in a private residence in the southern part of the city. He visits there every day after court. If you do not believe me, tomorrow we shall see for ourselves.”
Wen Shiyi took a deep breath, nodding:
“Le’er, tomorrow we will go.”
Some truths must be seen with one’s own eyes.
At that moment, footsteps approached outside. The maid Jin Xiu called:
“Madam, the master has returned.”
Changle and Wen Shiyi exchanged a cautious glance.
Wen Shiyi quickly composed herself, whispering to her daughter:
“Le’er, do not panic.”
As Sui Jingxing entered, Wen Shiyi forced a smile and stood to greet him:
“Master, why have you returned so early today?”
Sui Jingxing’s eyes flickered with suspicion, but he quickly masked it with a gentle expression:
“Is something the matter? The atmosphere feels… off.”
Wen Shiyi remained calm:
“Nothing. Le’er had a nightmare and came to Mother to comfort herself.”
Changle instinctively shrank behind her mother, then froze.
Why hide?
The man before her, outwardly upright yet truly ruthless, owed them both their lives.
She masked her inner fear, folding her hands politely and bowing slightly:
“Father!”