Chapter 478 Xiao Beicheng's Death
The next morning, Xiao Nanyue and Xiyan were having dinner.
Han Xiao entered Liuyunxuan and bowed solemnly to report:
"Your Highness, last night, at the ancestral hall... Xiao Beicheng scratched his wrist with a broken sandalwood hairpin. He bled to death."
He paused, took out a blood-stained silk cloth from his bosom, and presented it with both hands:
"This is the blood letter he left behind, saying... he wants to be buried with the Concubine Dowager."
Xiao Nanyue had just picked up a piece of osmanthus cake for Xiyan. Hearing this, he paused slightly, and a very faint ripple flashed across his eyes, so fast that it was impossible to catch it.
He took the blood letter. The blood on the silk cloth had turned dark brown. The handwriting was crooked, but it revealed a resolute obsession:
"I'm from the same school as Rou'er, begging for her forgiveness..."
Xiao Nanyan's fingers gripping the silk cloth tightened slightly, his knuckles turning white. After a moment, he threw it on the table, his voice unable to tell whether he was happy or angry:
"Burial together? He doesn't deserve it."
Han Xiao lowered his head and said nothing.
Xiao Nanyan stood up and walked to the window, pushing it half open. The cold morning breeze blew in, causing his dark robe to sway slightly.
"Bury him at Yema Hill in the south of the city." His voice was as cold as ice:
"No need to erect a monument. Let him stay alone forever and reflect on the debt he owes his mother."
Han Xiao replied "yes", glanced at Xi Yan who was silent, hesitated for a moment and said:
"Your Majesty, after all..."
"This king knows."
Xiao Nanyan interrupted him and looked towards the gray sky in the distance:
"He raised me for over ten years, and I've been calling him 'Father' for fourteen years."
Xiyan let out a long sigh. Xiao Beicheng was finally dead, and all the grudges were over.
…
That afternoon, there was no big fanfare at the Regent's Palace. Only Xiao Nanyue, dressed in plain clothes, personally brought a few guards to deliver Xiao Beicheng's coffin to the south of the city.
There was no funeral music, no funeral procession, only the dull sound of wheels rolling over the dirt road.
When the coffin was buried, Xiao Nanyue stood in front of the new grave, watching the yellow earth cover it up one by one, with no expression on his face.
Not until the last handful of earth fell did he whisper to the lonely new grave:
"The grudge is over. From now on, you and I have nothing to do with each other. As for the surname Xiao, I will return it to you..."
The wind blew up his clothes, and a few crows cried in the distance, making the wasteland even more desolate.
He turned and left, his back still straight, but with each step, it was as if he had unloaded something heavy, or as if he had been left with a scar that would never heal.
…
That afternoon, a new incense burner was burned in front of Su Xianrou's tombstone at Lihua Mausoleum in the north of the city.
In the curling green smoke, Xiao Nanyue seemed to see the gentle and beautiful woman standing under the pear tree, smiling and calling him "Yan'er".
His throat suddenly tightened, and he whispered:
"Mother, it's all over. I hope you and Xiao Beicheng will never meet again in the next life."
Then, he raised his hand and stroked the cold name on the tombstone, his voice choked with sobs:
"Don't worry, your son will be fine in the future."
Xiyan stood behind Xiao Nanyan, quietly looking at his straight back, her eyes fell on the cold tombstone, her heart filled with emotion.
My impression of Su Xianrou is that she is just like her name, gentle and delicate, but her fate is so bumpy that it makes people feel distressed.
It's pitiful and sad.
Her tragedy was certainly due to her meeting the wrong person, but her fragility and easiness to be manipulated as a woman in seclusion ultimately made it difficult for her to protect herself in the power struggles of troubled times.
There are countless men in the world, but how many of them can be like Xiao Nanyue, who is willing to sacrifice his life for the one he loves?
She thought of how Xiao Nanyan treated her. Even though he was indifferent at first, he had never deceived her in the slightest.
To love is to love openly and honestly; to protect is to protect without reservation.
There were only two times when he said things against his will, and which time was not to push her away from danger?
Such a man is worthy of her life.
And she would never let herself live like Su Xianrou, at the mercy of others.
After all, Su Xianrou is Xiao Nanyan's mother and the person who gave him life.
Xiyan took a deep breath and knew exactly what to do.
She walked forward, took out a stick of incense, lit it, kowtowed deeply to the tombstone, and inserted the incense into the incense burner.
In the curling green smoke, she looked up at the name on the monument and said softly:
"Mother, Xiyan is here to see you. All the past grudges have been settled. You can rest in peace over there."
She paused, her voice becoming softer:
"For the rest of my life, I will take good care of Nan Yan for you, protect him, and accompany him. When Yin'er is older, we will bring her to see you and let her come to pay her respects to her grandmother."
Xiao Nanyue listened quietly at the side, and a warm current flowed through his heart, making him feel sour and soft.
He never forced Xiyan to deal with her mother's past. After all, his mother had been confused and almost lost her life.
But she gave him a heavy warmth in the most appropriate way.
Xiao Nanyan walked forward, gently hugged her from behind, rested his chin on the top of her head, and said in a low and hoarse voice:
"Yanyan...thank you."
Thousands of words came to my lips, but finally turned into these two words, but they carried an indescribable feeling of emotion and cherishment.
The wind blew over the pear blossom tomb, picking up a few fallen petals, which landed on the two people's clasped hands.
The green smoke in front of the tombstone is still curling, as if the gentle woman is really smiling in the clouds.
…
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