Chapter 89: Broken Bones, Leap Down

The wind, wrapped in the coolness of the morning light, made Yun Zhi's plain clothes rustle like a white flag about to fall. Xiao Jin's fingers were still digging into the cracks in the wall, his nails curled, and his flesh and blood mixed with dust were stuck to the brick surface. Every inch he climbed felt like a knife scraping his bones.

"Zhi'er! Don't jump! Please!" His voice broke as he roared, his throat filled with the taste of blood. Tears mixed with sweat flowed down his forehead, blurring his vision. "I know I was wrong! I'll pay you with my life! I'll kneel in front of the Yun family's grave until I die! Don't do this to me!"

His knees banged hard against the wall tiles, scraping the skin and bleeding, staining his black trouser legs red, but he couldn't even feel the pain - all his senses were gripped by the panic of losing her, and even breathing was suffocating.

Yun Zhi, however, acted as if she hadn't heard him. She simply stared at him quietly, her eyes as blank as a frozen lake. She slowly raised her hand, not to grab him, not to call for help, but to gently brush a fallen leaf off her shoulder, her movements as gentle as if she were protecting a fragile treasure. She ignored the man desperately trying to climb below her.

"Xiao Jin," her voice was soft and faint, floating on the wind, but every word hit Xiao Jin's heart, "You always say you owe me, always say you want to atone for your sins. But you never asked me if I wanted your atonement."

She leaned forward slightly, her skirt brushing against the rubble on top of the palace wall, making a tiny, creaking sound that made Xiao Jin's heart leap. He moved upwards like a madman, his fingertips finally almost touching the hem of her skirt. He could even feel the thinness of the fabric—but at that moment, Yun Zhi suddenly took a half step back, standing completely at the edge of the palace wall.

"I have paid for the sin you asked for."

These seven words, like a thunderclap, exploded in Xiao Jin's ears.

Before he could react, he saw Yun Zhi open her arms. Her plain clothes spread out in the wind, and like a butterfly with broken wings, she fell straight back without struggle or hesitation.

"No--!"

Xiao Jin's eyes were bloodshot, his pupils suddenly shrinking to the size of pinpoints. He lunged forward, half his body leaning out of the palace wall, reaching out to grab the edge of her clothes. His fingertips barely brushed the plain white fabric, but he only caught a wisp of empty wind.

The moment the cloth slipped from his fingertips, Xiao Jin saw the last look she gave him - no hatred, no resentment, not even a trace of emotion, only complete coldness and a sense of calmness after being relieved, as if a heavy burden had been unloaded, and there was no longer any nostalgia.

“Zhi’er——!”

His screams echoed throughout the palace walls, sending patrolling guards tumbling to their knees in terror. Palace attendants in the distance scattered in fear. Xiao Jin crouched on the palace wall, leaning forward to look down. All he could see was a shrinking white figure and the bluestone floor below—that cold, all-consuming ground.

“Bang—”

There was a dull sound, as light as a stone falling to the ground, but it hit Xiao Jin's heart hard.

He saw the plain garment curl up on the ground for a moment, then stop moving. A streak of bright red blood slowly seeped out from beneath her body, spreading across the bluestone like a seductive flower, staining his vision and the morning light red.

"Zhi'er...Zhi'er!"

Xiao Jin's body instantly lost its strength, and he slid down the palace wall, falling heavily to the ground. He wanted to crawl over, wanted to rush to her side, wanted to see if she was still breathing, but it was as if all the strength in his limbs had been drained, and he didn't even have the strength to lift his hands.

A sharp pain surged through his chest, and he opened his mouth sharply, spitting blood onto the ground and onto the back of his hand. The scorching heat couldn't warm the cold he felt. The scene before him began to spin: the palace walls, the morning light, the bloodstains on the ground, all gradually blurred. In the end, only Yun Zhi's last glance, cold and relieved, remained, replaying over and over in his mind.

"She paid it back... She paid it back..." He murmured repeatedly, his voice as soft as a dream talk, the light in his eyes extinguished little by little, like a burnt-out candle, "I forced her to death... I forced her to death again..."

He remembered the night when she was given the abortion drug, curled up on the bed with a pale face; he remembered the despair when she was sent to the Northern Di envoy, holding the jade hairpin; he remembered her kneeling at the door of the palace, begging him to take a look at the evidence... It turned out that he had been forcing her from the beginning, until he forced her to the top of the palace wall, forcing her to use death to exchange for a release.

"Cough... cough cough..." A few more mouthfuls of blood spurted out, and Xiao Jin's consciousness became increasingly blurred. He could feel the guards surrounding him and hear someone shouting "Prince", but he could not hear or see anything.

Before he completely lost consciousness, the last thing he thought of was the sweet scent of osmanthus when they first met - Yun Zhi was wearing plain clothes, standing under the osmanthus tree, holding a book in her hand, and when she looked up at him, her eyes were bright as if they were filled with stars.

At that time, there was still light in her eyes.

It was he who extinguished the light bit by bit, and finally forced her into a dead end.

When the darkness completely enveloped Xiao Jin, blood was still hanging from the corner of his mouth, but a tear slid down from the corner of his eye - whether that tear was shed for Yun Zhi, or for his own absurd and cruel life, even he himself didn't know.

Beneath the palace wall, the piece of plain clothing lay quietly curled up on the bluestone slab, blood still spreading, flowing over her skirt, flowing over her fingertips, like a wound that could never heal, engraved under the vermilion palace wall, engraved in all the regrets that Xiao Jin would have for the rest of his life.

The wind is still blowing and the morning light is still warm, but some people and some things are forever stopped at this moment and will never come back.