"Father!" Logically, she should have burst into tears. I looked in the direction of the sound, but the crying suddenly stopped. The woman looked at me with a terrified expression. The Prince of Jin, who had stepped in behind her, paused with his folding fan, and then fell silent.
I looked down at the hands that were completely devoid of color, yet they were as terrifying as a vengeful ghost.
“Mi…Your Highness, Your Highness…” My mother strode over, took the woman’s hand, looked at her, then at me, and said softly, “That’s your sister, her name is…”
"What did you say? Father's body is barely cold, Mother, what nonsense are you spouting? This person, who came from who-knows-where..."
“Mi Lan.” Her mother lowered her head, tears welling up again. “She is indeed your biological sister. Your father hid her when she was born, because he was afraid…”
I met their terrified gazes and nodded slightly. Looking at the coffin, I realized that I was indeed no match for the corpse inside.
"I apologize for my rudeness to Prince Jin. This is nothing more than an old matter from sixteen years ago concerning the Liao family," the mother said humbly.
The Prince of Jin raised his hand, gesturing for her to be quiet, his gaze fixed intently on me. After a long silence, he finally uttered, "The Liao family breeds monsters. For me to marry into such a sorcerer is a misfortune for the imperial family!"
With her hands behind her back, she was about to leave when Mi Lan hurriedly caught up. I quietly watched them walk away, and looked at my mother standing there frozen. I lifted my skirt, wanting to leave—I was meant to stay underground, not for sixteen years, but for a lifetime.
"Master, a man claiming to be from Jimo has arrived outside. I wonder if you will allow him to come in?" A servant announced. I turned my head slightly and clearly saw my mother's already frail body suddenly sway and take a step back.
"Quickly, please come in." But judging from her expression, she had no intention of letting the so-called Ji Mo in.
My mother's gaze suddenly shifted to me, and she said pleadingly, "Yan'er, please look at him. Your father has already... has already..."
She couldn't continue, and I had no intention of listening anymore. I just looked towards the doorway and happened to see a glimpse of clothing, a pale mourning dress, draped over a dark inner lining.
At that distance, my eyes could barely see anything, and I couldn't make out the appearance of the person who came. I could only vaguely sense an aura that swept in through the crack of the open door, like a swallowing force, and instantly engulfed my whole body, making my hands and feet cold, and my blood rushing to my head.
Strangely, the man didn't seem afraid of me at all. I vaguely felt that he was looking at me without the slightest surprise or panic.
"Is this Miss Liao?" he said almost with certainty.
Indeed, what kind of Miss Liao was born with such a ghostly appearance as me?
The mother seemed quite afraid of him, but as a member of a military family, she maintained a calm and aloof demeanor, standing tall with her hands at her sides, and said, "My late husband valued the young master of Jimo very much."
He bowed slightly: "General Liao brought Dongli to the battlefield, and Dongli should be grateful. I really don't deserve to be called so highly."
Jimo Dongli, it seems, is that man's name.
“Young Master Jimo, there’s no need for modesty.” The mother turned around and walked to the coffin, looking at her father lying inside, and said, “He must have known you would achieve great things. He had a very good eye for people.”
I had long heard that my father and mother were deeply in love. Even when my mother gave birth to me, who was considered a monster, my father stayed by her side and never abandoned her. I never heard any sounds of women in General Liao's mansion, and even the servants were not as numerous as those in other high-ranking families.
"Madam is too kind," the man said, clasping his hands in a fist salute, exuding the aura of a military general.
My mother looked up at him, then at me, as if urging me to come closer. However, looking at the sunlight streaming through the courtyard from the eaves, I took a step back, hiding even deeper into the shadows of the mourning hall. Ji Mo Dongli looked at me, his expression unreadable. He simply strode over. I stood so close to my father's coffin that it was impossible to tell whether he came to see me or to be close to my deceased father. I only felt that this man was quite strange—in this world, there were few who were not afraid of me.
He finally knelt before the coffin, bowing deeply three times. Then he stood up and looked up. At this close distance, I could hardly see his face clearly. He gave me a slight bow, his hands clasped behind his back, yet he exuded a scholarly air.
"Miss Liao, how have you been lately?"
I looked at him through my pale eyelashes, unsure how to answer. Since that boy disappeared, I haven't spoken a word in nine years, and I've almost forgotten how to say "I'm alright."
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