Leaning on his body to get down from the bed, Qing Li slowly walked to where his blood-stained clothes were, reached out, and took out a wrinkled piece of paper from inside.
Then, he leaned on his body to slowly move back onto the bed.
Men are supposed to bleed without shedding tears, but as he looked at the paper in his hands that had turned dark with dried blood, he couldn’t hold back anymore.
Opening the blood-soaked paper, one could still make out the handwriting, delicate and neat, just like his mother’s character—seemingly gentle yet strict.
Qing Li blamed her for abandoning him to his master when he was just a child, but he also missed her, longing for the day she would come back for him.
Although he never got to see that day.
Only last night did he find out how much his mother truly loved him.
Looking at the contents of the letter, Qing Li felt as if his heart was being twisted by a knife.
"Ah Li, by the time you read this letter, your mother will no longer be of this world.
Your mother always knew you blamed her for leaving you at a young age to search for your father. She always wanted to say sorry, but unfortunately, she no longer has the chance.
Don’t hold grudges, don’t hate anyone, and there’s no need for revenge. Your mother doesn’t want her son to live a life consumed by hatred because it was by her own choice that she gave up her life.
Your mother is selfish—she wants you to live well but also wants to reunite with your father in another world...
Reading this far, Qing Li was overwhelmed with grief.
He understood that his mother had given up her own life, but it was even more so because she didn’t want him to be controlled by others because of her.
Thinking about it, a deep hatred suddenly welled up in Qing Li’s eyes.
He had no idea why the person in the mask had targeted him, nor why that person had been able to control his mother, but he would never forget that it was that person who drove them, mother and son, into such a desperate situation!
Ye Jiu left the residence, scouring the streets for various delicacies.
The Yuan Jun Taoist had said, if he truly wanted to thank him, then he should bring him more of the delicacies of the human realm.
Several days had already passed, and Ye Jiu had not found the time. Now that he was about to leave the capital city, he finally had a bit of leisure to wander among the different taverns.
From a distance, the Prince saw Ye Jiu, who had just left one tavern, turn and enter another.
Although Ye Jiu still wore a gauze hat, the Prince recognized her silhouette at a glance.
Taking a step, the Prince followed her.
In the private room, Ye Jiu looked at the table full of dishes just served. She was about to stash them into the container she had prepared in advance in her space when suddenly she heard a noise at the door.
The next second, the door to the private room was flung open.
"It really is you, girl. The Prince hasn’t mistaken you." Every time he saw that small face so similar to his own, especially when dressed as a woman, the Prince felt an unbearable disgust, yet he couldn’t help seeking out the encounter.
"Oh, it’s Prince Jing," Ye Jiu said, patting her chest with feigned relief.
She had been careless, forgetting to lock the door of the private room.
Thankfully she hadn’t begun to collect the dishes yet. Otherwise, it would have been trouble if that guy had seen her.
"You wouldn’t be up to something, now would you?" Prince Jing’s eyes were firmly fixed on Ye Jiu.
"Me?" Ye Jiu rolled her eyes in pretense, "You must be joking. What could I possibly be up to? I just came out for a meal!"
"If you’re not feeling guilty, then why do you look upon seeing the Prince?" Prince Jing was suspicious; his eyes weren’t blind—he could tell Ye Jiu was uncomfortable.
"It’s just unexpected to see the Prince here," Ye Jiu said, deftly changing the subject, "The food at this tavern isn’t bad. Would the Prince like to try some?"