Xie Linxu’s purple sandalwood carriage was always eye-catching, but now, after Song Xingyue stepped down from her own carriage, she did not see it. He hasn’t come back yet?
Song Xingyue lifted her head to look at the sky. In the rainy night, the moon hung faintly, blurred and indistinct. It was already this dark, and yet Xie Linxu still hadn’t returned?
Unwilling to give up, Song Xingyue asked the servants. They replied, “The young lord came back once, but later went out again. He didn’t tell us where he was going.”
He came back, then went out again?
Her heart was in turmoil. As she walked back toward Qinghe Courtyard, she ordered others to inquire about Xie Linxu’s whereabouts.
Back at Qinghe Courtyard, she found no trace of him. Too weary to think further, and with her body feeling grimy and uncomfortable, she entered the cleansing room to bathe. But as she undressed, a small object fell from her clothing. She picked it up and saw it was a solid gold pendant, shaped like a full moon, heavy in her hand.
Song Xingyue guessed Ji Jianyun must have slipped it to her earlier, when he had pulled at her. Remembering the harsh words she had spoken to him, her nose suddenly stung with the threat of tears. She refused to let herself be swept away by such burning emotions, and quickly forced herself to withdraw. After bathing, she returned to her room and waited intermittently until the hour of Xu (around 7–9 PM), but still Xie Linxu did not appear.
Danping, seeing her seated before the bronze mirror all this time, felt uneasy. She said, “Miss, you haven’t eaten since you came back. Today is your birthday—at least have a bowl of longevity noodles.”
No one in the Xie household knew it was her birthday. Even Xie Linxu—though she had told him that morning—was nowhere to be seen now, his whereabouts unknown.
Song Xingyue’s heart soured. How could she eat? She lay weakly on the table and told Danping, “I’m not hungry. I’ll skip it.”
That was her flaw: when her mood soured, her appetite vanished too.
Danping could only sigh and stop trying to persuade her. Just then, a maid entered and said, “Madam, someone from the Li family just came to deliver a message. They said the young lord will be staying there tonight.”
Song Xingyue could hardly believe what she heard. It was as if she had lost the ability to comprehend words. She looked at the maid and asked, “Say it again. Where is he staying?”
The maid repeated, “Madam, he is staying… staying at the Li residence. Presumably he went to visit Grand Tutor Li, and since it grew late and the curfew blocked his way, he lodged there for the night.”
Why stay at the Li residence today of all days? Why not any other day?Why… why today? When she left the house that morning, hadn’t she told him clearly that today was her birthday?
She hadn’t expected him to spend the whole day with her—she knew he wouldn’t—but how could he stay at the Li residence and not return even for one night? What did he take her for?
This sudden turn of events made Song Xingyue feel sick. The resentment festering in her heart spilled over, and she couldn’t hold back—she retched.
Danping was terrified and rushed to her side. “Miss, what’s wrong with you?”
Her monthly cycle had only just come a few days ago, so Song Xingyue knew it couldn’t be pregnancy. No—this was pure nausea, brought on by Xie Linxu. She truly couldn’t fathom why he’d chosen her birthday, of all days, to lodge at the Li residence. She didn’t understand. She didn’t understand; it made her want to vomit.
Outside, the rain dripped and pattered, its noise only sharpening her agitation. When the retching passed, she lay down weakly on the bed, her head aching. “Danping, go out. I want to be quiet. I want to be alone.”
That night, Song Xingyue didn’t know how she endured. Lying in bed, she couldn’t tell whether she slept. She only remembered listening to the rain all night, watching with open eyes as the sun rose on the horizon.
The moon had been dim last night, and today’s sun was no brighter. Everything was steeped in gloom.
She forced herself through the long hours until dawn, curled up beneath the canopy’s shadow, clutching the quilt, her body drawn into a small ball. The room was as it always was: sandalwood carvings exuding a faint fragrance, thin daylight filtered through the silk screen, falling in mottled, pale patterns on the floor. She lay in the huanghuali bed, above which hung a gilded incense sphere, breathing out wisps of smoke… That night, she stared at these lifeless objects until they seemed to come alive.
Two years.
No matter how Xie Linxu had treated her before, she had never felt this kind of disgust. She had always known he looked down on her, that he disliked her, even despised her. She also knew that in his heart, she could never compare to Li Huaixin. But even so—he shouldn’t have treated her like this.
Did he truly have no heart at all? Could he really not see her, not even a little?
Song Xingyue hadn’t realized how much she cried. It seemed that ever since marrying into the Xie family, her tears had never ceased.
Finally, around the hour of Mao (5–7 AM), she heard movement at the door. She lifted her eyes and saw that Xie Linxu had returned. She remembered—it was a rest day; he didn’t need to go to the yamen.
Song Xingyue hadn’t slept all night, her head heavy and muddled. She forced herself upright and looked at him, equally weary.
He must not have slept at the Li residence either. Dark shadows hung beneath his eyes, lending a dust-worn air to the man who was usually so meticulous.
Song Xingyue asked him, “Why didn’t you come home?”
She didn’t know why, but her voice trembled. Was it resentment, grief, anger, confusion? All tangled together, blurred and indistinguishable.
Xie Linxu’s gaze on her remained as cold and deep as ever—just as it had been these past two years, never once softening toward her. His indifference and harshness pressed Song Xingyue to the brink of sobbing aloud.
Forcing down her emotions, she asked, “Didn’t I say yesterday was my birthday, and ask you to come home early?”
Xie Linxu countered, “I came back. Where were you?”
Song Xingyue immediately held out her bruised palm. “Yesterday, I was knocked down by the young master of the Li family. The rain was heavy, so I was delayed a while… I came back late. That was my fault. But why couldn’t you wait for me? If you had waited, I would have returned right away. If you had waited, I wouldn’t have failed to come home.”
He could have waited for her at home. Instead, he went to the Li residence.
Song Xingyue asked, “What did I do wrong that you treat me this way?”
She truly couldn’t understand—what had she done to earn such hatred from him?
“Did wrong…” Xie Linxu repeated under her breath.
What had she done wrong? Hadn’t she done enough wrong?
He gave a cold laugh. “Do you not know how you married into the Xie family?”
Song Xingyue didn’t want him to bring up two years ago. Yet he threw it at her without warning, leaving her defenseless. Quickly, she tried to explain: “Back then, it was my fault—I shouldn’t have entered your room. But that medicine truly wasn’t mine. And if I hadn’t helped you, what would you have done, poisoned as you were? You’ve blamed me for that ever since, but it isn’t fair.”
Even if she had committed the gravest of mistakes, he had no right to humiliate her like this.
Xie Linxu watched her grow more aggrieved as she spoke, until her eyes turned red and brimmed with tears. She was the one who had done wrong, yet she shamelessly absolved herself, twisting the blame until it seemed he was the guilty one.
His gaze was icy, as though a layer of frost lay over his eyes. He reached out, his pale, slender fingers gripping her chin, as if to see her tears more clearly.
She was crying—crying with deep sorrow. She was truly heartbroken. But Xie Linxu would no longer be deceived by her. His thin lips parted, his clear voice cold and indifferent: “Isn’t this what you wanted? If you can’t bear it, then divorce.”
If it was so unbearable, then let them separate—give her dignity, give him dignity.
Would she be willing? No, he didn’t believe she would. He left her with words that could never come true, then continued his self‑torment, sitting and waiting for ruin.
He no longer hoped to hear her answer, nor did he want to hear her excuses. He didn’t look at her tear‑stained face again, but turned and walked away without a glance back.
The room fell into dead silence. Song Xingyue could not believe what she had heard. Even her sobs caught in her throat, as though someone had gripped her neck tightly, leaving her mute.
She had never imagined she would fall to such a state—so full of sorrow and pain that she could not even speak. Watching his retreating back, her chest screamed to cry out, to question him harshly, but the words lodged in her throat until her face flushed and her breath grew heavy.
What had he said? He said this was what she wanted. He said if she couldn’t endure, then divorce. In the end, he looked down on her, never held her in his heart. He knew full well she could not leave him in her current position.
So he could humiliate her without restraint. He could spend her birthday night at his childhood sweetheart’s home, and he could so easily speak the word “divorce”…
But Song Xingyue didn’t understand—what was she after, truly?
Since marrying him, aside from food and clothing, aside from once asking him for a dress at the Li residence, had she ever asked for anything precious? The Xie family never let her meddle in affairs, and she never dared. For two years she had coaxed him, obeyed him, abandoned her pride and dignity. Did he think she was after his wealth, his name? She only wanted a home. Only a place to settle. She only wanted to live in peace. Yet in the end, he thought of her like this. She had given all of herself, again and again, throwing herself upon him…
Yes. Throwing herself upon him was the truth. And him? Again and again, coldly, he cast her away.
She had once thought of bearing him a child—believing that once they had a child, life would surely grow easier, her situation less humiliating than now. But what Xie Linxu did and said today made her realize they would never have a future. She had struggled for more than two years. But more than two years could not warm Xie Linxu’s heart.
Forget it…
Song Xingyue thought.
Better to forget it.