Chapter 19

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The rosewood carriage belonging to Xie Linxu was always eye-catching, yet tonight, after Song Xingyue disembarked, she saw no sign of him.

Had he not returned yet?

Song Xingyue looked up at the sky. Amid the rainy night, the moon hung hazily, blurred and indistinct.

It was already so dark, yet Xie Linxu still hadn’t come back?

Unwilling to give up, she inquired of the servants, who replied, “The Young Master did come back briefly, but then he went out again without telling us where.”

He came back, then went out again?

Confusion tangled in her heart like a knot. As she headed toward Qinghe Courtyard, she sent someone to learn of Xie Linxu’s whereabouts.

Upon returning to Qinghe Courtyard, indeed, there was no sign of Xie Linxu. She stopped overthinking, as the grime on her body had become unbearable and went into the cleansing room to wash.

Yet as she undressed, a small object fell from her clothes.

She picked it up and found it was a solid gold pendant, shaped like a full moon, surprisingly weighty in her palm.

Song Xingyue guessed it had been slipped to her earlier by Ji Jianyun during their struggle.

Recalling the harsh words she had just spoken to him, a sudden sting rose at the tip of her nose.

She refused to be swept away by such scorching, overwhelming emotions and quickly pulled herself together.

After cleansing, she left the room and waited intermittently until the hour of the dog, yet still no sign of Xie Linxu.

Dan Ping, seeing her seated before the bronze mirror in wait, felt a pang of sympathy.

“Miss, you haven’t eaten since returning. Today is your birthday; at least have a bowl of longevity noodles.”

No one in the Xie household seemed to know today was her birthday—not even Xie Linxu, who despite her morning reminder, remained absent and whereabouts unknown.

Her heart churned with bitterness; she had no appetite. Weakly, she rested her head on the table and told Dan Ping, “I’m not hungry. I won’t eat for now.”

This was her weakness: when her mood soured, her appetite followed suit.

Dan Ping could do no more and ceased persuading. Just then, a maid entered.

“Madam, the Li family just sent word that the Young Master has stayed the night there.”

Song Xingyue barely believed what she heard. It felt as if she had lost the ability to comprehend words.

She looked at the maid. “Say that again. Where did he stay?”

The maid repeated, “He stayed... at the Li residence. They said he went to visit Old Madam Li, and as it grew late and the curfew fell, he stayed there overnight.”

Why stay at the Li residence? Any night would do, but why tonight?

Why?

Hadn’t she told him this morning it was her birthday?

She never asked him to spend the entire day with her; she knew he wouldn’t. But how could he stay overnight at the Li residence and not come back?

What did he really think of her?

This sudden revelation made her sick. The long-buried feelings surged up, and she couldn’t hold back the dry heaves.

Dan Ping was frightened. Seeing her suddenly vomit, she rushed over, “Miss, what’s wrong?”

She knew the recent moon sign letter couldn’t mean pregnancy. This nausea was purely from the disgust Xie Linxu had caused.

She couldn’t fathom why he would choose to spend her birthday night at the Li residence.

Song Xingyue didn’t understand. The confusion made her nearly retch again.

Raindrops pattered relentlessly outside, heightening her anxiety. She stopped vomiting, feeling weak and with a headache, lay down on the bed.

“Dan Ping, you may leave. I want some quiet. I need to be alone.”

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That night, Song Xingyue didn’t know how she endured it. Lying in bed, she wasn’t sure if she slept or stayed awake, only recalling the sound of rain all night and watching the sun rise at dawn.

The moon had been dim; so was the morning sun.

Everything was shrouded in gloom.

She survived the dawn through this pervasive dullness, nestled in shadows beneath the canopy, curled into a small ball clutching the quilt.

The room remained as always—carved rosewood ornaments exuding the scent of aged incense. Thin sunlight filtered through the embroidered silk screen, casting mottled, faint shadows on the floor.

She lay on a yellow rosewood bed beneath a gilded, openwork incense ball hanging overhead, exhaling wisps of fragrant smoke...

That night, Song Xingyue forced these lifeless things to seem alive.

Two years.

No matter how Xie Linxu treated her, she had never felt this sick before.

She had always known he despised her, disliked, even loathed her. She also knew she could never compare to Li Huaixin in his heart.

But still, he shouldn’t treat her so.

Did he truly have no heart? Could he really not see her at all?

Song Xingyue hadn’t realized she had become so prone to tears. Since marrying into the Xie family, her tears never ceased.

Finally, around the hour of the rabbit, she heard a noise at the door.

She looked up and saw Xie Linxu had returned.

She remembered today was a rest day; he didn’t need to go to the office.

Having not slept all night, her head was dizzy. She forced herself upright and looked at the equally exhausted Xie Linxu.

He probably hadn’t slept either at the Li residence, his eyes darkened with fatigue, adding a layer of weariness to his usually immaculate appearance.

Song Xingyue asked, “Why didn’t you come home?”

For some reason, her voice trembled.

Was it resentment, sorrow, confusion? Mixed and blurred, she could no longer distinguish.

Xie Linxu’s gaze was as cold as ever, as if over these two years he had never once softened toward her—his indifference so cutting it drove her to the brink of tears.

Suppressing her emotions, she said, “Didn’t I tell you yesterday was my birthday and to come home early?”

He countered, “I came back. Where were you?”

She immediately showed her injured palm. “Yesterday, I was knocked down by the young master of the Li family. The rain was heavy, so I stayed there for a while... I was late returning, that was my fault. But why couldn’t you wait for me? You could have waited—I was coming back right then. I wouldn’t have left without coming back.”

Clearly, he could have waited at home for her but chose to go to the Li residence instead.

Song Xingyue asked, “What did I do wrong that you treat me like this?”

She truly didn’t understand what she had done to earn such resentment.

“Did something go wrong...” Xie Linxu murmured her words.

What had she done wrong?

Hadn’t she made plenty of mistakes?

He scoffed and asked, “Don’t you know what it means to marry into the Xie family?”

Song Xingyue didn’t want to revisit the two-year-old grievances. His sudden mention caught her off guard, leaving her defenseless. Yet she quickly found words.

“That matter at the start was my fault; I shouldn’t have gone into your room. But you really weren’t poisoned by me. And if I hadn’t helped you, what would you have done? You always blame me for that; it’s unreasonable.”

Moreover, even if she had great faults, he had no right to humiliate her like this.

Xie Linxu watched her grow increasingly aggrieved, her eyes reddening until they brimmed with tears.

She was clearly the one at fault, yet shamelessly, she wiped herself clean and made it seem he was the one at fault.

His eyes chilled like a sheet of ice as he reached out, his slender pale fingers pinching her chin, as if to see her tears more clearly.

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She wept deeply.

Truly, deeply.

But Xie Linxu would no longer be deceived by her.

He parted his thin lips, his clear, cold voice indifferent and detached.

“But isn’t this what you want? If you can’t bear it, then divorce.”

If it was so unbearable, then divorce—allowing her dignity and his to remain intact.

Could she bear it?

He didn’t believe she could.

Leaving behind an impossible demand, he continued his self-inflicted torment, resigned to fate.

He didn’t hope to hear her response, nor did he want to hear her excuses. Without looking at her tear-streaked face again, he left without a backward glance.

The room fell into dead silence. Song Xingyue couldn’t believe what she had heard. She couldn’t even cry out, as if someone had strangled her, leaving her mute.

She hadn’t imagined she would fall to such depths—grief and pain rendering her speechless.

She watched his back, her heart screamed hoarsely, wanting to question him sharply, but the words were choked back, her face flushed, breath heavy and labored.

What had he said?

That this was what she wanted, and if she couldn’t bear it, then divorce.

He despised her, did not care for her. He knew her current situation was utterly dependent on him.

So he shamelessly humiliated her. He could spend the night at the Qingmei residence on her birthday and casually say the word divorce...

But Song Xingyue didn’t understand. What did she want from him?

Since marrying him, aside from food and clothing—and the one time she asked him at the Li residence for a suit—what expensive things had she ever asked for?

The Xie family’s affairs excluded her, and she never dared interfere. For two years, she had cajoled him, obeyed him, abandoned her pride and dignity.

Did he think she wanted his money or status?

She only wanted a home, a place to rest. She just wanted peace.

Yet he thought that of her.

She had thrown herself at him time and again...

Yes.

She had taken refuge in him.

But what about him?

Again and again, he pushed her away with coldness.

Song Xingyue had once thought that bearing Xie Linxu a child would improve their lives, that their situation could never be worse than now.

Yet today’s words and deeds showed her they would never have an “after.”

She had struggled with this for over two years.

But even after all this time, she could not thaw Xie Linxu’s heart.

Enough...

Song Xingyue thought.

Just enough.