Shang Ruyi widened her eyes, becoming increasingly clear as she looked at those standing at the doorway. Leading them was Aunt Hui, her face full of sorrow, and beside her, half-embraced by her arm, was Yu Wencheng, his face still streaked with tears. Everyone else in the household followed behind them.
Their faces were all turned toward the other side of the long street, as if eagerly expecting something.
Most importantly, they were all dressed in white!
As the carriage drew closer, Shang Ruyi finally saw that not only were they clad in white, but even the two large lanterns at the entrance of the Duke Mansion had somehow been changed to white!
The neighing of a horse at her ear brought everyone back to their senses, and only then did Aunt Hui and the others notice them, rushing up to greet them.
Yu Wenye dismounted swiftly from his horse and walked up anxiously. Shang Ruyi hurriedly got off the carriage as well, following behind him to the doorway. Just as she stopped, she saw Yu Wencheng rush over in tears, throwing himself into Yu Wenye’s arms.
At this moment, Yu Wenye’s tall figure showed signs of wavering for the first time.
Standing behind him, Shang Ruyi watched his slightly trembling shoulders, disoriented by the sight of what seemed like a jade mountain crumbling. She instinctively stepped forward, her hand gently supporting Yu Wenye’s back, as she saw Aunt Hui approach with red eyes: "Second Young Master, Young Madam, why are you back...? You’re finally back."
At this time, they had no chance to explain the Emperor’s abrupt decision to return to Luoyang today. They could only observe the increasingly oppressive scene around them, and the mournful demeanor of the servants with their bowed heads. Yu Wenye’s face turned pale as he asked in a low voice, "What happened at home?"
"Second Brother, Second Brother..."
Yu Wencheng clung tightly to his brother, crying so hard he could hardly breathe, even starting to retch.
Aunt Hui was crying herself as she reached out to pat him on the back to soothe him.
Yu Wenye’s face grew even darker, his eyes slightly reddened as he glared at Aunt Hui: "What on earth happened?"
Aunt Hui looked up at him, crying, "Second Young Master—"
She didn’t finish her sentence when suddenly, from behind them, at the end of the long street, came the sounds of a convoy. Everyone quickly turned around, seeing a procession moving slowly towards them. Two men led the way, dressed in white robes, holding white pennants that swayed as they walked, as if ghosts floating through the air.
And behind them on the carriage, a massive, black coffin suddenly appeared before their eyes!
At this moment, Shang Ruyi trembled all over, seeing accompanying the coffin was Jinyun, a close attendant of Guan Yunmu. Her face was full of tears, overcome with sadness, looking from afar at Yu Wenye and Shang Ruyi standing on the other side of the long street, before bowing to the ground in a slow prostration.
The servants at the entrance hurriedly rushed up to them, and Yu Wencheng, seeing this from Yu Wenye’s embrace, started crying loudly again, running towards the coffin and crying out, "Mother!"
This cry of "Mother" shattered Shang Ruyi to her core.
Seeing Aunt Hui weeping, she finally whispered, "Second Young Master, the Duchess, she... has passed away!"
These words were like a thunderclap in a dry sky, exploding in Shang Ruyi’s ears, leaving her stunned for a long while before coming to her senses, her tears falling like a broken string of pearls. She asked in disbelief, "How, how could this happen?"
Aunt Hui cried, "Some days ago, news came from Liaoxi that the Duchess’s condition was worsening, but hearing that the battle at Yanmen Pass was urgent, we dared not send news to disturb the Second Young Master and Young Madam. Until the day before yesterday, when the Duke’s letter arrived and we learned the Duchess had already... it was only today we awaited here, to receive her spirit."
She looked up at Yu Wenye, tears falling endlessly: "Second Young Master, please restrain your grief..."
After speaking, she too turned and walked towards the coffin.
Shang Ruyi stood rooted to the spot, unable to believe the reality for a long time. What unsettled her more was the hand she had gently placed on that straight back, now trembling imperceptibly, though he didn’t move, like a statue carved from ice.
Yu Wenye, his whole being was frozen.
Shang Ruyi hurried to his side, seeing that usually stern and indifferent face now as pale as paper, his eyes dark and lifeless, as if something had been drawn out of him.
Shang Ruyi instinctively grabbed his hand: "Second Brother—"
Before she finished speaking, her heart sank.
Yu Wenye’s hand, always rough yet warm, had a fire within it that would keep burning hot, always facing the winds, frost, and snow of the world.
But at that moment, he was so cold.
Not just his fingertips, even his palm, his gaze, and even his breath seemed frozen into ice.
Shang Ruyi panicked and hugged him tightly: "Second Brother!"
In her choking cry, Yu Wenye’s gaze finally wavered slightly. He slowly lowered his head to look at her, then raised it again to look towards the coffin, looming closer like an inevitable shadow over his life.
He finally opened his mouth, a hoarse voice emerging from his dry throat—
In the following two days, the entire Yuwen Family was in a state of turmoil.
This was not the first time Shang Ruyi had witnessed a family member’s passing, faced with the series of tedious affairs such as offering and guarding the spirit. But it was the first time she encountered someone so numb and soulless after losing a loved one.
After she and Aunt Hui had consulted regarding all matters of the family’s memorial, she returned to the hall, where everything had been arranged.
In the main hall, a thick black curtain divided it into two parts, the rear holding the Duchess’s coffin. At the front of the curtain stood a large sacrificial table with incense, candles, and wax papers, and an imposing ancestral tablet, inscribed with: In Memory of the Virtuous Lady of the Guan Family, Yunmu.
For some reason, looking at that inscription felt like seeing the frail yet indifferent face of Guan Yunmu.
She stood there silently, watching the earthly scene before her—the fluttering curtains in the hall, the busy servants coming and going, the guests arriving to offer condolences. All this bustling activity, heartbroken as it was, seemed to bear no relation to her in life, whether amidst flowers overlaid with brocade or amidst solitary desolation, she remained detached from it all.
Perhaps, the only thing that could weigh upon him was the presence inside the hall, always avoiding contact, the pallid-faced Yu Wenye.
Since the coffin was placed and the hall set up, he had been kneeling there without expression, without words, not even a single tear.
When Shang Ruyi approached him, she could barely sense any trace of life.