The mourning period lasted seven days before the formal burial took place.
During these days, Ling Xiao had not been idle. He dealt with Prefect Rong and wiped out the bandit stronghold, leaving no survivors.
The Ling family ancestral graves were located on Qingyan Mountain behind the village. The funeral procession stretched for two miles as it made its solemn way up the mountain.
Ling Xiao had ordered the ancestral graves to be repaired in recent days, but time was tight, and only simple renovations could be done. Once Ling Chen was buried and laid to rest, further repairs would be carried out properly.
"Marquis, the time has come for the burial," Jian Shuang stepped forward and said quietly.
Ling Xiao reached out and touched the thick coffin, his lips pressed together in silence for a moment before he finally spoke in a low voice, "Proceed with the burial."
"Yes."
A dozen men lifted the coffin and slowly lowered it into the prepared grave, then began shoveling earth over it.
As scoop after scoop of dirt covered the coffin, Madam Lin wept sorrowfully again, "Eldest son, may you rest in peace."
Ling Shen supported Madam Lin, wiping tears from his eyes with his sleeve.
Once the coffin was buried and the tombstone erected, Ling Xiao knelt before the grave, burning paper offerings for his elder brother.
The firelight cast shadows on his chiseled, resolute face, adding a touch of desolation.
Over the years, he had fought battles far from home, braving countless dangers—not just for his own ambitions but also to earn military honors that would bring prosperity to his family.
Yet now, having returned in glory with distinguished achievements, he was still one step too late. His most beloved elder brother had already passed away.
He remained in melancholy silence before the grave for a long time before finally rising.
Madam Lin was still wiping away tears. He turned to Ling Shen and said, "Go burn some paper for our brother."
"Yes." Ling Shen released Madam Lin, handing her over to Jiang Yueyao’s care.
Beside Madam Lin stood a slender figure, even frailer than seven days ago, as if a gust of wind could knock her over. Her face was pale, her eyes red-rimmed, devoid of vitality.
Ling Xiao glanced at her, recalling how she had kept vigil by the mourning hall day and night without leaving.
He withdrew his gaze coldly—who knew if it was all just an act?
"Mother, the wind is strong outside. You should return first," Ling Xiao said.
Madam Lin patted Jiang Yueyao’s hand. "You should burn some paper offerings for him too."
"Yes," Jiang Yueyao responded softly, her voice hoarse and thick with tears.
She stole a glance at Ling Xiao, wary and guarded, then deliberately avoided him as she walked to the grave to burn paper.
Ling Xiao frowned slightly, displeased.
Madam Lin noticed his expression and said quietly, "Don’t always hold such a grudge against Yueyao. She’s been with our family for a year now, and I’ve seen for myself that she’s a good girl. Didn’t you interrogate Rong Shichang yourself? Your brother’s death was his doing, not hers."
Ling Xiao’s gaze turned icy. "But he still died because of her."
"I’ve thought that too at times. But before he left, your brother repeatedly urged us to take care of her. After Yueyao entered our household, he truly seemed happier. I knew this day would come for him eventually, and I’m at least comforted that she was there with him in his final days."
Hearing Madam Lin’s words, Ling Xiao suddenly recalled his brother’s last words to him:
"My life may have been short, but it was enough to satisfy me."
Ling Xiao stared coldly at the frail woman in mourning robes kneeling before the grave.
His brother had been born with an illness, his health always weak, leaving many regrets—yet in the end, he had claimed to be satisfied.
Was his brother’s satisfaction because of her?
By dusk, the Ling family descended Qingyan Mountain and returned home.
Ling Xiao had arranged for a sedan chair to carry Madam Lin down the mountain—she was getting on in years and couldn’t endure the strain.
Jiang Yueyao, having kept vigil all these days and now exhausted from the journey up and down the mountain, could barely keep her footing on the descent.
Yet she forced herself to keep going, not daring to complain. The intimidating presence of Ling Xiao walking ahead made her fear that even a slight delay would draw his piercing glare.
"Sister-in-law, are you tired? Should we slow down?" Ling Shen asked considerately.
Truthfully, he was also worn out—his second brother’s strides were too long, and he could barely keep up—but he didn’t dare say so.
He was still somewhat afraid of Ling Xiao.
When his second brother had left home, Ling Shen had only been eight. Back then, Ling Xiao’s temper was already notorious—no one in the village or even the town dared provoke him. But after ten years away, though Ling Xiao seemed to have tempered his sharp edges, the invisible aura of lethality around him was even more oppressive.
Hearing Ling Shen’s words, Ling Xiao glanced back. Ling Shen was merely panting heavily, but Jiang Yueyao’s pale face had flushed, a sheen of sweat on her forehead, giving her a bit more color.
When Jiang Yueyao noticed Ling Xiao looking at them, she froze mid-step, pressing her lips together. "I’m fine."
Ling Xiao swept a cold gaze over Ling Shen. "You’re already tired from such a short walk?"
Ling Shen swallowed nervously. "I—I’m not tired either."
Without another word, Ling Xiao turned and continued down the mountain.
But Jiang Yueyao couldn’t be sure—was it her imagination, or had his pace slowed just a little?
By the time they reached home, Jiang Yueyao was utterly exhausted, too drained even for grief, wanting only to collapse onto the bed and rest.
Yet as soon as she stepped inside, she found the courtyard bustling with people moving things in and out.
Jiang Yueyao stood frozen. "What’s happening?"
Ling Shen answered, "We’re moving. Second Brother said that after the burial, we’re relocating to the capital."
"What?"
Her face paled, a flicker of panic crossing her features—though upon reflection, it wasn’t entirely unexpected.
These past days, while keeping vigil in the mourning hall, she hadn’t involved herself in household affairs, but she had seen the grandeur with which Ling Xiao had returned and heard his subordinates address him as "Marquis."
Since he had attained such a high rank, of course he wouldn’t remain in Xingfeng Village.
Madam Lin emerged from the house. "Yueyao, we’ll leave for the capital in a couple of days. Pack your belongings. I didn’t get a chance to tell you earlier while you were in mourning."
"But my husband is still here," Jiang Yueyao shook her head immediately. "I won’t go. I’ll stay and keep watch over him."
"How can we leave you here alone? Your husband would never rest easy. And your own family is hardly trustworthy."
Madam Lin’s tone brooked no argument. "You entered the Ling family, so you are one of us. Before he passed, your husband was most worried about you. You should let him depart in peace."
"That’s right, sister-in-law. It’s too dangerous for you to stay here alone. Eldest Brother wouldn’t want that. We’ll bring his memorial tablet with us to the capital. We can visit his grave during Qingming Festival—he’d be happy that way," Ling Shen added.
He wasn’t exaggerating. Jiang Yueyao was young and beautiful—a widow like her, left alone, would inevitably attract unwanted attention.
Rong Shichang might be dead, but the world was full of men just as vile as him.
"But my husband is buried here..." A wave of bitterness surged in Jiang Yueyao's heart.
After her parents passed away, her fate had been as rootless as duckweed, drifting aimlessly until she met Ling Chen. He saved her, married her, and gave her a place to belong.
Now that he was gone, she was alone once more.
"Have you forgotten what Eldest Brother told you before he left? He wanted you to live well too."
On the night before Ling Chen's passing, he had held her hand tightly. By then, his breath was already faint, his face pale as paper, his words labored—yet he still wore a smile, afraid she would grieve too deeply.
He had said, "Yao'er, after I'm gone, you must live well. Don’t do anything foolish, and don’t mourn for me too long. This illness was always going to take me sooner or later. I’ve long been prepared."
"In this life, I’ve had many regrets. I once thought, if only I’d been healthy, I would have pursued scholarly honors, ventured out into the world like Second Brother, and made something of myself. But I never left Xingfeng Village in my entire life. The one blessing was meeting you."
"You must live well for me. See the world, Yao'er. If you’re happy, then I’ll be happy too."
She had wept uncontrollably then, unable to do anything but cling to his hand, terrified of letting go.
Yet in the end, his breath stilled, and his grip loosened.
Madam Lin squeezed her hand. "Yueyao, come with me. We’ll take Eldest Brother’s memorial tablet with us. If his spirit watches over us, he’ll be glad to see us living well."
Jiang Yueyao snapped out of her memories and nodded through tear-blurred eyes.
She would ease her husband’s worries, serve her mother-in-law dutifully, and see the world in his stead. She would live—and live well!
Madam Lin, exhausted, gave a few more instructions before retiring for the night.
Ling Shen returned to his room to pack, and Jiang Yueyao also prepared to gather her late husband’s belongings.
But then a towering figure blocked her path.
She had been walking with her head down, and when she looked up abruptly, she met Ling Xiao’s dark, stormy gaze. Instinctively, she took a step back, her red-rimmed eyes instantly filling with wariness—and a flicker of fear she thought she’d hidden well.
Ling Xiao stared at her. "If not for Eldest Brother’s dying wish, I wouldn’t have let you off so easily."
A chill crept up Jiang Yueyao’s spine. She stiffened her neck, lips pressed tight. "What do you want?"
Ling Xiao saw through her forced composure and smirked coldly. "Whatever poison you fed Eldest Brother to make him plead for your care, know this—I’m not him. I’m not so easily fooled, nor so lenient."
Jiang Yueyao thought bitterly, You don’t have to say it. Everyone in the Ling family is kind—except you.
Ling Xiao caught the flash of resentment in her eyes and narrowed his own.
From the moment he first saw her, his instincts had warned him—she was no innocent. Beneath that demure facade lay cunning, yet Madam Lin praised her obedience daily, and Eldest Brother had shielded her without question.
Truly, they’d all been bewitched by this deceitful woman.
Jiang Yueyao lowered her gaze, steadying her emotions. It was better not to provoke trouble.
Ling Xiao’s voice was icy. "Don’t even think of scheming under my watch. Just because I’m sparing you now doesn’t mean I’ll tolerate you forever."
He took two steps forward, his oppressive aura bearing down on her. "If you dare step out of line—if you fail to mourn Eldest Brother properly—I’ll kill you myself."
