It’s deep winter.
The expansive manor lay shrouded in dead grass and tangled vines, gray and lifeless. The entire estate looked bleak, save for a newly tended grave at the courtyard’s center, adorned with vibrant, fresh flowers.
The grave was covered with vivid blooms, an eerie contrast that made the place feel both desolate and strangely alive.
Hua Yutang, standing before it, felt his heart twist painfully. After all these years…
He sighed, stepping forward. As he approached, he saw a tall but visibly aged man, wearing a black home suit, seated beside the grave, murmuring softly.
Hua Yutang lowered his gaze and set a file gently on the ground in front of the man. “Mr. Xie, here is the information I promised.”
“Just leave it there.”
Xie Youzhou, eyes soft and sorrowful, placed a piece of dark cloth stained with blood on a cushion by the grave, then reached for the documents. His gaze shifted as he flipped through them, his once-gentle eyes hardening, dark and terrifying as an abyss.
Hua Yutang looked away quickly, unnerved by the transformation. He knew that Xie Youzhou had decimated the Ruan and Hortes families and left those who’d wronged Lin Zhiyu in ruin.
But in the end, he wondered what good any of it had done. Lin Zhiyu had been gone for over a decade; no amount of vengeance would bring him back. So why did Xie Youzhou stay here, guarding a grave as if nothing else existed?
With a sigh, Hua Yutang took a step to leave, but he hesitated, wanting to say something—to make Xie Youzhou realize that maybe it was time to let go.
But how could he tell him that?
“Why are you still here?” Xie Youzhou’s cold voice interrupted his thoughts. Hua Yutang stiffened, and finally, without another word, he turned and left the lonely, haunting graveyard.
Once he was gone, Xie Youzhou waved, and the gates of the manor closed.
He sat down beside the grave, his hand gently brushing the soil as if he were caressing Lin Zhiyu’s face.
“It’ll all be over soon, Gege…” he murmured. “None of them will escape.”
His tone was soft, almost soothing, but carried an underlying emptiness and pain. As he stroked the ground by the grave, his sleeve slipped, revealing the scars—jagged, thick, some still fresh, etched deeply into his skin, snaking their way down his forearms.
The sun sank lower, casting a blood-red glow, and Xie Youzhou’s eyes darkened, shadows blending with the last light.
He laughed suddenly, hollow and pained, and drew a knife across his arm in a practiced motion.
“Tick…tick…”
Blood welled up instantly, staining the flowers by the grave. He did this as if it were second nature, something he had done countless times before.
In his heart, he wanted to understand, to feel even a fraction of the agony that Lin Zhiyu had endured. He wanted to know what kind of strength his beloved brother had summoned to survive such torture for three unbearable months.
He trembled, his eyes welling with tears as he rested his forehead against the cold earth, his voice a whisper.
“Gege, I’m so sorry…”
“I miss you.”
His tears fell, trailing down his weathered face, past gray strands of hair, sinking finally into the ground below.
The sun dipped below the horizon, and a pale shadow fell over the manor. Everything seemed enveloped in the quiet sorrow—a dark, lifeless field and a single grave, still radiant with flowers.
There was a fleeting warmth then, something like a gentle hand resting on his shoulder. For a moment, Xie Youzhou could almost feel Lin Zhiyu by his side, just as he had been the first time they met.
In his heart, he could only dream: If only he had been there sooner…
But there was no going back in time, and every time he awoke, there was still only this grave.
He no longer dared to imagine a different ending. He just wanted to make those who had caused his brother’s suffering to feel a pain a thousand times over.
And maybe, just maybe, to use all his wealth in hopes that his brother’s next life would be one of peace.
So that his beloved could live happy, content—and perhaps even that he might one day be there, watching, in the background.
***
After completing his vengeance, Xie Youzhou donated all his remaining fortune, and at the age of forty, he lay down beside Lin Zhiyu’s grave one final time.
With a faint smile, he closed his eyes, finally at peace.
Perhaps he knew…
They still had a next life.
