I had just returned home, not even having time to catch my breath or take a sip of water, when my mother dragged me into the house without a word. Without any explanation, she forced me to kneel before a spirit tablet that was both red and black.
"Mom, what are you doing? Whose spirit tablet is this? Why do I have to kneel?" I was utterly confused.
My mother’s fiery temper was like this—she never explained things beforehand. She always acted first and talked later.
I saw her lips pressed tightly together, her expression a mix of anger, shock, and sorrow. Seeing her like this, I obediently knelt down, not daring to say another word.
But as I looked up, I saw the spirit tablet before me, engraved with bold, powerful, and elegant characters.
Husband, Yu Qingzhou.
My breath caught in my throat. Whose husband?
My mind raced. Could it be my husband, whom I had never met in over ten years?
But how could my husband be a spirit tablet?
Could it be…
He… he… he… he was dead?
As soon as this thought crossed my mind, cold sweat broke out all over my body. It must be true, it must be. If he weren’t dead, why would he have never appeared in all these years?
My voice trembling, I called out to my mother, "Mom…"
My mother turned to look at me. Seeing my eyes fixed on the spirit tablet, she was taken aback for a moment before letting out a heavy sigh.
Her voice was filled with both anger and helplessness. "Jing Yao, you’ve caused a huge disaster! You almost got your father killed!"
What?!
"What happened to Dad?! What’s going on?" I pressed.
At the mention of my father, tears instantly welled up in my mother’s eyes. She rolled up her sleeves and wiped her tears haphazardly, her voice trembling as she said, "First, kneel for eight hours, then I’ll tell you."
Me, "?"
Mom, are you serious about eight hours?
Sensing my shock, my mother glanced warily at the spirit tablet and said to me, "Kneel properly. He’s watching. If you anger him again, our whole family will suffer."
"Think about what you did at school. You need to earn his forgiveness as soon as possible."
My mother’s words only deepened my confusion. I couldn’t help but whisper, "I didn’t do anything at school. I’ve always listened to you. Except for necessary matters, I hardly interact with men."
Except for last night.
It was my fault for letting Su Weiwei’s words stir my heart last night. And with Song Lin being such an outstanding senior, who wouldn’t be moved?
But who could have imagined that Senior Song Lin was actually a man-eating monster!
"You, you… you really won’t give up until you hit the wall. Take a look for yourself."
With that, my mother turned and went into the room, bringing out a pile of letters and tossing them in front of me.
I was completely baffled by these letters. Who still writes letters these days?
Puzzled, I picked up the letters and opened one. When I saw the content, my eyes twitched, and my hands trembled.
They were love letters!
And every single one was signed by Song Lin. I quickly checked the dates—they were all from the past two months.
I was utterly bewildered. I had no idea about Song Lin writing me love letters. And even if he did write them, how did they end up in my mother’s hands?
"Mom, I don’t know, I really don’t know how this happened…" I replied weakly.
My mother looked at me, her expression one of exasperation. "These letters appeared at the head of my bed early this morning. As soon as I saw them, I knew something was wrong. How is that child Song Lin?"
I moved my lips but didn’t know how to tell my mother that Song Lin’s head had been crushed like a watermelon by a red-clothed brute.
"N-nothing happened," I mumbled, lowering my head.
Besides, Su Weiwei said she saw Song Lin at school this morning and even spoke to him.
Now I was starting to wonder if last night’s experience was just a dream. But if it was a dream, how could I explain these letters?
I stared blankly at the letters in my hand. Their contents were sweet nothings, but to me, they felt like death warrants.
My mother didn’t say anything more, only telling me to kneel properly and not get up until I had knelt for a full eight hours.
After saying this, she went to check on my father.
I checked the time. If I had to kneel for eight hours, it would be three or four in the morning.
I glared resentfully at the eerie memorial tablet as the sky gradually darkened.
In the main hall, it was just me and that memorial tablet—me kneeling, the tablet standing.
After kneeling for so long, my knees had gone numb.
Just as I was about to move, I felt a cold draft slip into the collar of my shirt. In the sweltering heat of summer, it sent a shiver down my spine.
I checked the time again. It was already two in the morning.
About five or six hours had passed since I got home. Just a little longer—only two more hours to go.
But the main hall seemed gloomier than usual, and during this time, my mother hadn’t come to check on me again, nor had she brought me any food.
At the thought of food, my stomach growled uncooperatively.
And in the air, I caught the scent of sour and spicy noodles. When I was little, I loved sour and spicy noodles—I could eat them every day without getting tired of them.
Crisp bean sprouts, chewy noodles, and that tangy, spicy broth—just thinking about it made my mouth water.
But wait, something felt off.
Why was the smell getting stronger and stronger?
"Yaoyao." A kind, elderly voice came from behind me.
I quickly turned my head and saw Grandma holding a large bowl, walking from the courtyard toward the house. The delicious aroma was wafting from that bowl.
"Your mother is really something, making you kneel here for so long without bringing you any food. Grandma made your favorite sour and spicy noodles. Eat them while they’re hot."
Grandma stopped at the entrance to the main hall but didn’t come in. She placed the bowl on the ground just outside the threshold.
"Grandma, why aren’t you coming in?" I asked, puzzled. "It’s so late. Aren’t you asleep yet?"
The warm yellow light from the main hall fell on Grandma. It should have felt cozy, but for some reason, at that moment, her expression seemed dark and gloomy. She just stood there, staring fixedly at me.
"Hurry up and eat, Yaoyao. They won’t taste good once they’re cold," Grandma urged.
I sighed helplessly. "Grandma, I’m still being punished. How can I eat if you don’t bring it in for me?"
Hearing this, Grandma's expression changed. She took a few steps back and said awkwardly, "I had a fight with your mother. She won't let me into the main hall. If she sees me later, she'll start arguing with me again. I won't come in. You hurry up and eat. Grandma is leaving first."
After saying that, Grandma actually turned around and walked away briskly, muttering as she went, "Can't go in…"
"Absolutely can't go in…"
This…
Since when has this old lady been so afraid of my mother? In the past, when she and my mother argued, she was a fierce old lady who could even pick up a firewood knife to fight with her.