He was already heartbroken and filled with self-blame when he learned that his sister had died just a wall away from him.

Song Yaozhu knew he must be in a lot of pain right now, but the person who hurt her wasn't him, it was Yuwen Wuji, it was Gao Ping, he shouldn't be in so much pain.

"Your Highness, it's all over now," she said softly, trying to comfort him. But she knew that words were pale in comparison, and these insignificant words could not heal a person's wounds completely.

“How can this be over?” Madam Yin said softly, her tone filled with sorrow and grief. “The murderer is still at large, and this matter will never be over for the Xie family.”

Song Yaozhu stared blankly at Madam Yin, her heart filled with their love and hate. Her family cared for her so much, and therefore she cared for them too.

Madam Yin sighed and said, "You must comfort him. We must fight back! We can't let the rumors continue like this, or you will be despised by the world!"

After Madam Yin left, Song Yaozhu hugged Xie Liwei and asked, "Ali, will this hug make you feel better?"

Xie Liwei hugged her back, cupped her face in his hands, and looked down at her face intently.

Her face was smooth and beautiful, without a single scar or blemish. Her skin was as tender as cream, smooth and soft.

"My face hurts so much." Xie Liwei pressed his thumb against her temple. "Some wounds may have healed, but when you think about them again, the pain will reappear along with the memory. Do you think it hurt a lot back then, sister?"

Song Yaozhu gazed into his eyes, which were filled with tears, like a boundless ocean that seemed to engulf her.

She struggled and thrashed in the ocean, unsure of which way to go. The sky was bright, the sea calm, but her heart was pounding; she knew it was the calm before the storm.

When the storm comes, the strong winds will whip up waves that will slam her to the bottom of the sea forever, with no chance of ever coming back up—she will drown in the sea.

Song Yaozhu pried his hands apart, stood on tiptoe to kiss his lips, wiped away his tears with her fingertips, and reached out to remove his mask.

Xie Liwei did not stop her actions, obediently following her lead like a child being manipulated. But his body was stiff, as stiff as a wooden sculpture, filled with trepidation and tension.

The first time Song Yaozhu saw the wound under his mask, a hideous and ugly wound.

The skin around his left eye resembled crumpled and shrunken clothing, or the roots of a large tree expanding its territory, with thick roots turning up the soil, arching out of the ground, and revealing terrifyingly thick rhizomes.

The scarred skin varied in color, some light and some dark, but it was covered with knife wounds, making it a shocking sight for her. Her heart trembled as her body moved, and tears welled up in her eyes.

"Does it still hurt?"

She dared not touch his wound, for fear of hurting him.

"Sometimes it hurts."

The scars healed long ago, but the heart is hard to heal. Song Yaozhu understands this pain because she often experienced it in her dreams at the beginning of her rebirth.

Even though I've been given a different body, the pain in my internal organs feels like it's been etched into this body along with my soul.

This pain was caused by the people who hurt them, and they know that only by killing the people who created these painful memories can they truly heal those wounds.

Song Yaozhu kissed his forehead, put his mask back on, and answered his previous question: "Because there is true love in the world, those pains seem insignificant. Because the people who love me are sharing my pain, I hope the people I love can get better soon."

Love is a good medicine for many wounds, but not all wounds can be healed by it. Because some love is pressure and pain for the wounded.

Are you my queen?

Song Yaozhu noticed that the hand holding her waist tightened; he was nervous.

"I am."

I am Xie Wanqing, your elder sister, and your wife.

Some words seemed never to have been spoken, yet everything was said. Xie Liwei pulled her into his arms, exchanging body heat, like people desperately seeking warmth in the cold night, yearning to survive.

"Your Highness, let's go somewhere tomorrow."

In the season when osmanthus blossoms fill the air with their fragrance, everything related to osmanthus begins to be sold in the capital, including osmanthus cakes, osmanthus wine, osmanthus honey...

The carriage of the Prince of Xiaoyao drove out of the city gate and arrived at the Imperial Palace Temple.

This solemn and majestic temple stands halfway up the mountain, and worshippers must abandon their carriages at the foot of the mountain and walk up. However, the wealthy still choose the simpler option of a sedan chair.

Song Yaozhu wasn't that precious; she and Xie Liwei held hands and climbed the mountain together, arriving at the gate of Huangjue Temple close to noon.

"Your Highness, it's been a long time." The abbot greeted Xie Liwei with a smile.

"Master, I have brought my queen to visit some old friends."

The abbot immediately instructed the young novice to lead the way, taking them to a small Buddhist hall.

“Here…” Inside the Buddhist hall, there are eternal lamps for the deceased, each lamp engraved with the deceased’s birth date and time of death.

It is said that if you light an everlasting lamp for the deceased, their soul will not get lost in the underworld.

Xie Liwei picked up three incense sticks from the altar, lit them, and handed them to Song Yaozhu. "These eternal lamps are for my elder sister and the people around her."

Song Yaozhu's heart clenched. She turned her eyes away as if to avoid looking at the names on the lamps.

Those people remained vivid images in her memory, and she dared not ask or think about their fate. Even knowing they had all died in the fire, she did not want to dwell on it.

But now, standing here, reality forces her to confront the deepest fears in her heart.

She seemed to be standing on the edge of a cliff, with fierce winds whipping around her and no sound in her ears. Her body was too heavy to take a single step; yet it was also too light, for even the slightest tilt would send her swept into the abyss by the wind, leaving no trace of her remains.

Xie Liwei took out a handkerchief to wipe her tears, but she stubbornly said, "The wind is too strong, it's getting in my eyes."

But they were inside, and they didn't even open the windows.

"Yes, the wind is indeed very strong." Xie Liwei pulled out two prayer cushions from under the incense table and patted them, gesturing for her to sit down. "Whenever I feel like I can't go on, I think, if I die, will anyone keep the eternal lamp burning here for me?"

The answer is no. The Buddha is meant to save humanity, but there is no Buddha in the human world. These monks in temples have, unwittingly, become businessmen.

“These eternal lamps not only illuminate their path underground, but also show me a way.”

Even if the road is full of thorns, he will cross it, because at the end of the road is the resting place of the dead.

Song Yaozhu rested her arms on her knees and suddenly asked him, "Why isn't that lamp lit?"

The extinguished lamp stood out prominently amidst the surrounding lights.

“That is my elder sister’s eternal lamp.”