Ah, I can't take it anymore.
While the morning dew still clung to the crabapple petals of the Silver Prince's Mansion, Yin Li was already sitting in her study organizing clues—a map of Wei An's residence lay spread out on the table, and the jade pendant with the character "Li" was carefully wrapped in a brocade handkerchief. She repeatedly stroked the edge of the pendant with her fingertips, still thinking about how she and He Mo would investigate the whereabouts of the Xu Guan branch today.
But this expectation was shattered by the secret letter hastily delivered by the guard. The guard's voice trembled: "Young Miss, this was found in the lining of the boots of the Qinglang Mountain assassins. It... it has the name of Prince He written on it."
Yin Li's fingertips had barely touched the secret letter when she recoiled as if burned. The letter was yellowed with age, and the edges were still covered in dirt. When unfolded, the hastily written characters were like poisoned needles, piercing her eyes one by one: "The He family used the Yin family case to control Wei An, and embezzled 30% of the salt permits. After the sacrificial ceremony, they will jointly control the salt transport in the suburbs of the capital with Qinglang Mountain."
There was no name at the end, only a cloud pattern drawn—the curve and lines of that cloud pattern were exactly the same as those on the token at He Mo's waist, down to the slightest turn. "Impossible..." Her voice was so soft it seemed to float away, her fingertips gripping the letter tightly, her knuckles turning white, the edges of the letter crumpled into a ball, the ink spreading and staining her fingertips black like an indelible stain.
Images from the past surged through her mind: his bloodied right arm as he shielded her from a knife in the dilapidated temple, his resolute back as he protected her on the pleasure boat, the tenderness in his eyes when he kissed her... But these images were now torn to shreds by the words in the secret letter, leaving only a chilling coldness.
She forced herself to suppress her trembling and carried the secret letter to He Mo's bedroom. The wind blew down crabapple blossoms from the corridor, landing in her hair, but she was oblivious—her mind was filled with "why," and her thoughts were consumed by that glaring cloud pattern. When she opened the door, He Mo was sitting by the window, wiping his sword.
Sunlight fell on him, making his dark robes glow softly. He looked up when he heard the noise, and a smile immediately appeared in his eyes. He put down his sword and was about to greet her: "Why so early? Are you planning to..." Before he could finish speaking, he saw the secret letter that Yin Li handed him, and the bloodshot eyes in her eyes.
The smile on his face froze instantly. His hand, which had taken the secret letter, paused slightly. As he unfolded it, his brows furrowed more and more, and his expression gradually darkened. "This is a forgery."
After reading it, he looked up at Yin Li, his voice urgent, "I have never colluded with Wei An, and the matter of the salt permit is utter nonsense! Although this cloud pattern resembles my token, it lacks the hidden 'crane' character pattern on the back of the token, so it's a fake!" "A fake?" Yin Li's voice was hoarse, and tears finally welled up and streamed down her cheeks, splashing onto the secret letter and leaving a small wet patch. "But besides you, who else could draw such a similar cloud pattern?"
You say you have an old grudge against Qinglang Mountain, but you never say what that grudge is; you help me investigate the Yin family case, but you never say your real purpose... He Mo, tell me, how can I trust you?
Every word she spoke was like a small hammer, striking He Mo's heart.
He wanted to explain, to tell the story of how Qinglang Mountain killed his father and how Mu Han was entrusted to protect him as he grew up, and to clearly express his feelings for Yin Li. But when the words came out, he found that he had no evidence. His father's old subordinates had long since dispersed, and Master Mu Han was far away on the border. The only thing that could prove his innocence was the hidden pattern on the token. But this light and airy "unique hidden pattern" seemed so pale and powerless in the face of the "ironclad evidence" of the secret letter.
“I know you won’t believe me no matter what I say now,” He Mo’s voice deepened, trembling without him even realizing it, “but I really didn’t… Yin Li, look me in the eyes, I never thought of harming you, never thought of harming the Yin family.”
Yin Li looked up and met his eyes—they were full of anxiety, hurt, and a hint of panic she had never seen before.
The handwriting on the secret letter echoed in her ears like a curse, making her afraid to believe those eyes that had once captivated her. She abruptly turned her face away, taking a step back to avoid his outstretched hand that was trying to wipe away her tears: "I can't see... I only see this letter, and all the clues point to you." Her retreat was like a knife, piercing He Mo's heart.
He stood frozen in place, his outstretched hand hovering in mid-air, his fingertips cold—he wanted to grab her, to pull her into his arms and explain, but without evidence, all his explanations sounded like lies. "I need to calm down."
Yin Li's voice was choked with sobs as she turned and walked toward the door, her steps unsteady as if she were stepping on cotton.
As she reached the door, she paused, but didn't turn around. "Until you find evidence to prove yourself, we... shouldn't see each other again." The door creaked shut, cutting off their view of each other. He Mo stood there, still clutching the secret letter in his hand, the paper crumpled and deformed.
Sunlight streamed through the window and fell on him, but it couldn't warm the despondency in his eyes.
He knew that Yin Li wasn't unloving, but rather too afraid—she had already lost her second uncle and the glory of the Yin family, and could no longer bear the betrayal of someone she trusted.
But now, all he could do was watch helplessly as she grieved and their relationship cooled. Outside the door, Yin Li leaned against the cold wall, tears streaming down her face. She covered her mouth to stifle her sobs, but her fingertips trembled uncontrollably—she desperately wanted He Mo to produce evidence, desperately wanted it all to be a lie, but reality had dealt her the harshest blow.
The hands that once held each other tightly, the heartbeats that once drew near, now felt as if separated by a thick layer of ice, so cold that she dared not touch them again. In the following days, Yin Li completely avoided He Mo. She had her maid return the medicine he sent untouched.
He wanted to help her organize the clues, so she locked the study door beforehand. Even at mealtimes, she waited until he left before going to the living room. Looking at the untouched osmanthus cake on the table, tears welled up in her eyes again. Every day, He Mo searched through old things in the study, trying to find evidence of his father's battle with Qinglang Mountain, trying to find something to prove his innocence. But after searching through all the boxes and chests, he only found a yellowed old account book with no useful information on it.
He stood by the window, looking at the tightly closed window of Yin Li's bedroom, his heart aching as if it were blocked—he wasn't afraid of not finding out the truth, but he was afraid that by the time he found out, Yin Li would no longer believe him and would have completely pushed him away from her heart.
Moonlight spilled into the courtyard of the Silver Prince's mansion, and crabapple blossoms fell to the ground once more. The two men's bedrooms were not far apart, yet they felt as if they were separated by vast distances.
One person was in the room, holding the jade pendant and silently shedding tears, while the other was in the room, facing the empty box with a heart full of helplessness. The tenderness and tacit understanding they once shared had been frozen into a cold silence by this sudden cloud of doubt.
On the fourth day that Yin Li locked herself in her study, most of the crabapple blossoms on the windowsill had withered, leaving the desk covered in broken petals. She curled up in her chair, clutching the half of the jade pendant with the character "Li" in her arms, her fingertips repeatedly stroking the cool jade surface, while tears fell like broken beads, hitting the jade pendant and sliding down the curve into her clothes, leaving a damp, cool stain.
She kept the secret letter under her inkstone, but every night when all was quiet, the words on it would emerge from her mind—"He Shi colluded with Wei An" and "shared the profits from the salt permits," and the cloud pattern that was exactly the same as He Mo's token, haunted her like a curse.
She remembered his bloodied right arm when he shielded her from a knife in the dilapidated temple, his tense jaw when he protected her on the pleasure boat, and the tenderness in his eyes when he kissed her. These images and the words in the secret letter tore at her heart, making her feel so painful that she could hardly breathe. She stayed up all night until dawn, her eyes swollen like walnuts, and she could barely touch the porridge that the maid brought her.
"Young Miss, please eat something. If you continue like this, your health will collapse." The maid brought in the warmed porridge for the third time, her voice full of concern as she looked at Yin Li's pale face. Yin Li shook her head, her gaze falling on the top shelf of the bookshelf—covered in a thick layer of dust, where her second uncle had kept the "Silver Crane Clan Genealogy," which he had mentioned before his death. Her second uncle had said that the Yin and Crane clans were sworn brothers, and that the Crane clan's ancestors had even risked their lives to protect the Yin clan when they were in trouble. This genealogy recorded all the past interactions between the two clans.
"Perhaps...perhaps the answer is inside." She suddenly stood up, moved a wooden ladder, and climbed up the rickety steps. When her fingertips touched the cold wooden box, her heart suddenly raced. The brass lock on the box was already rusty, and when she pried it open with her hairpin, the rust stung her fingertips.
The moment it was opened, a musty scent of paper and ink wafted out. The yellowed genealogy fell onto the table, with a few dried crabapple petals tucked between the pages—the ones my second uncle had placed there years ago. The edges of the petals had long since curled up, but their original pinkish-white color was still visible.
With trembling hands, Yin Li opened the book, her fingertips tracing the words, "When the Yin clan suffered misfortune, the ancestors of the Crane clan mobilized the entire clan to help them, vowing 'Yin and He will never betray each other, and will share weal and woe for generations.'" Tears welled up in her eyes again.
How could the He family, with such a promise, collude with outsiders to harm the Yin family? She continued to flip through the pages, her finger tracing the records, and finally saw a line of tiny characters on the last few pages: "During the previous dynasty, Qinglang Mountain once imitated the He family's cloud pattern to make fake tokens, which were used to sow discord between the Yin and He families. The fake tokens did not have the hidden 'He' character pattern on the back, and the corners of the cloud pattern were blunt, which was very different from the sharpness of the genuine tokens."
These words struck her like a thunderbolt, instantly shattering her chaotic thoughts! She hurriedly pulled out the secret letter from under the inkstone and spread it out next to the genealogy for comparison—the cloud pattern on the secret letter was indeed rounded at the corners, with subtle smudging at the edges, while the token at He Mo's waist, which she had seen up close in the secret chamber, had cloud patterns with sharp corners like knives, and the back was engraved with a tiny "crane" character in a hidden pattern that was almost invisible without careful observation!
"It's fake...it's all fake..." Yin Li's voice trembled, tears falling onto the secret letter and blurring the ink. She remembered that day when He Mo held the secret letter and said urgently, "The imitation is missing the hidden pattern," but she didn't believe him and coldly interrupted him;
Thinking back to the past few days when she deliberately avoided him, returned the medicine he sent unopened, and blocked him outside the study; thinking of him standing under the corridor, watching her back, the hurt and helplessness in his eyes... her heart felt like it was being violently squeezed, the pain almost making it hard for her to breathe.
"I was wrong... How could I not believe him..." She couldn't sit still any longer, grabbed the family genealogy book and ran towards He Mo's bedroom. She trampled the crabapple petals on the corridor, but she didn't care. Her skirt fluttered in the wind, tears blurred her vision, and she almost tripped several times. She had only one thought in her mind: to find him, to apologize to him, to tell him that she believed him and would never doubt him again.
When she opened the door, He Mo was sitting by the window, flipping through a book. He was wearing a plain-colored cotton robe, his hair loosely tied back with a wooden hairpin, and the wound on his right arm hadn't fully healed, so he could only turn the pages with his left hand, his movements as gentle as if afraid of hurting the pages. Sunlight fell on him, softening his profile, yet also revealing an indescribable loneliness—he didn't look up at the sound of her opening the door as usual, he was just staring at the pages, not even noticing her.
"He Mo..." Yin Li's voice was choked with sobs, and she choked up as soon as she opened her mouth. He Mo then looked up, and when he saw her, a hint of surprise flashed in his eyes, like a pebble thrown into a calm lake, but it quickly returned to calm. There was no resentment, nor expectation. He simply closed the book gently, his voice lower than usual, but still gentle: "Why are you here? Are you feeling unwell?"
Seeing him like this, Yin Li's tears fell even harder. He was clearly wronged, and he had endured her suspicion and estrangement, yet he was still concerned about her health.
She walked quickly to him, handed him the genealogy book, her hands trembling with excitement, the pages of the book crumpled in her hands: "Look...look at this!"
"The secret letter is fake. It's a cloud pattern made by Qinglang Mountain. It's written in the genealogy that the fake doesn't have the hidden 'crane' character pattern, and the corners are blunt. I didn't believe you before. I was wrong..." He Mo took the genealogy, slowly turned to that page, his gaze fell on that line of small characters, and his fingertips gently brushed across the paper, his movements as light as if he were touching a precious treasure.
He stared at her for a long time before looking up at Yin Li—she stood before him, her eyes red, tears streaming down her cheeks, her nose red, like a little rabbit who had suffered a great injustice and was hurriedly admitting her mistake, even the hand clutching the hem of her clothes was trembling.
The slight resentment he felt from her distance vanished instantly. He wasn't angry; he simply reached out his left hand and gently wiped away her tears, his fingertips brushing against her cheek, the touch warm. His movements were as gentle as ever: "Don't cry. I know you didn't mean it."
"I did it on purpose!" Yin Li suddenly grabbed his hand, buried her face in his palm, and rubbed her tears into his palm until it was wet. "I shouldn't have ignored your explanation, I shouldn't have avoided you, I shouldn't have left you alone... Why aren't you angry?"
"You can scold me, or even get angry with me, just don't treat me like this..." He Mo looked at her reddened earlobes and her hand that was tightly gripping his, refusing to let go. A smile finally welled up in his eyes, tinged with helplessness but full of tenderness. He pulled her to sit beside him, then carefully drew her closer to his arms, avoiding his injured right arm: "Why would I be angry?"
"You might have doubts because you care about the Yin family, about Yin Li, and even more so about me, right?" He paused, resting his chin on the top of her head, his voice so gentle it could melt water, "These past few days, seeing you lock yourself in your study, unable to eat or sleep, has broken my heart. How could I bear to scold you again?"
Yin Li leaned against him, listening to his steady heartbeat and feeling the warmth of his palm. Her tears fell even harder, not because of sadness, but because of guilt and relief—guilt for almost pushing him away because of a misunderstanding, and relief that she had found the family genealogy and hadn't missed him.
She reached out and hugged his waist tightly, her voice trembling with tears, yet exceptionally firm: "No matter what happens in the future, I will believe in you and never doubt you again."
He Mo tightened his arms around her, holding her even closer, his fingertips gently stroking her long hair as if soothing a frightened little animal: "Okay, I'll remember."
From now on, we'll investigate the clues about the Void Temple together, find Yin Li together, and never be apart again.
Wow, we'll never be apart again.
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