Wang Yunmei, who only moments ago had been basking in her cruel triumph, stiffened. The color drained from her cheeks, though her eyes still burned with stubborn defiance.
Li Jianfang stepped forward. Each footfall was unhurried, deliberate, yet heavy with authority, as though she were not merely entering the corridor but claiming dominion over it. Her gaze, cold and unwavering, swept across Wang Yunmei, then over the stunned faces of her relatives, before finally softening as it rested on her daughter.
"Ziqing," she called gently. The faintest tremor of warmth slipped into her otherwise composed voice. Then she lifted her eyes back to Wang Yunmei, her expression hardening into sharp, unyielding lines. "I left this family with my dignity intact. And in all these years, it seems the only thing you've cultivated is a poisonous tongue. But filth, no matter how loudly shouted, will never become truth."
The corridor fell into a tense stillness.
Everywhere she turned her gaze, people flinched.
Li Jianguo's body began to tremble. He swallowed hard, a thin sheen of sweat breaking on his brow. The oppressive weight of Li Jianfang's aura pressed down on him like the presence of a powerful bureaucrat or even the mayor himself. He could hardly believe it—just a month ago, he had seen her beaten down, frail, and vulnerable. He had mocked her, spoken to her with arrogance. But now, standing before him, she radiated authority so commanding that it stole the air from his lungs.
Chen Lihua, who for years had nurtured a seed of resentment toward Li Jianfang, felt that old bitterness stir again. Yet this time, she did not lash out or sneer. Instead, she shrank back into the crowd beside Li Jianjun, her husband equally silent and bewildered. Both were stunned into stillness, unable to reconcile this commanding figure with the woman they thought they knew.
But not everyone reacted with silence.
Old Lady Li's face twisted into fury. She had held her tongue earlier, watching from the side while Wang Yunmei clashed with Jianfang's children, but now, seeing Li Jianfang's commanding aura, her resentment ignited. To her, this was no longer just a quarrel—this was a direct threat to her authority.
"Li Jianfang!" she snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut through the tense silence. "How dare you call Yunmei by her name? Have you no respect left? And don't forget—it was your daughter who first raised her hand against Weiqiang. That slap was unfilial, brazen, and she deserves to be punished!"
The corridor rippled with unease. Even those who agreed with the matriarch dared not breathe too loudly.
But Li Jianfang didn't so much as flinch. She raised her chin slightly, her eyes meeting her mother's with calm defiance.
"Enough, Mom," she cut in firmly, her voice steady as steel. "I will listen to whatever grievances you hold against me. Say what you will—whether I was right or wrong, I'll bear it. But I will not stand by and watch while lies are dressed up as truth. If you have an accusation, face me directly. Speak it plain and clear."
Her voice grew colder as she swept her gaze across the gathered crowd, then fixed it once more on Wang Yunmei.
"But as I've always said—if anyone dares to humiliate my children, you'll find yourself choking on your own shame. I won't retreat, and I won't forgive." Her eyes narrowed, cutting like blades. "And as for her…" Jianfang's lips curved into a hard, humorless smile as she gestured toward Wang Yunmei. "She has never once deserved my respect."
The words fell like thunder, leaving the corridor wrapped in stunned silence.
Wang Yunmei immediately sneered, her voice laced with venom. "Did you see that, Mom? Just because she has money now, she dares to talk back to you. What arrogance!" She turned sharply toward Li Jianfang, her expression twisted with disdain. "And don't try to twist the matter. I don't care about your respect—I want justice for my son. Your daughter struck Weiqiang. Do you even realize the gravity of that mistake? She's four years younger than him, yet she dared to lay a hand on her elder cousin. And you still claim she's innocent?"
"What?" Li Weimin, who had just arrived, exploded with fury. His eyes blazed as he glared at Li Ziqing. "That bitch actually hit my big brother? Brother, why didn't you beat her to death on the spot? She dared to touch you? That shameless, fatherless bastard!" He spun toward Old Lady Li, his voice rising to a shrill pitch. "Grandma, you must punish her today. Last time she even flaunted her wealth in front of me—buying phones, MacBooks, showing off like she's better than us. She deserves to be taught a lesson!"
Old Lady Li's face contorted with rage, her wrinkled hands trembling as she gripped her cane. "She dared to do that?!" she barked, her voice echoing through the corridor. She turned a sharp glare on Li Jianfang. "Did you hear, Jianfang? Your daughter flaunts her money as if she's royalty, and now she even dares to raise her hand against my precious grandson. What do you think she is?"
Li Jianfang let out a low, humorless chuckle. Her eyes gleamed with ice-cold defiance. "And did you hear what your grandson was just calling my A Qing? 'Fatherless bastard,' 'bitch'—such refined words. I must admit, I'm impressed by your upbringing. If children raised in a complete family with both parents turn out like this, then I am more than satisfied raising my children alone."
Her words cut like a blade, silencing the corridor. She straightened her spine, her voice growing sharper with every word. "And flaunting wealth? Why wouldn't we? Do you remember when Eldest Brother bought that tiny apartment in the Eastern District? I still remember the smug faces you all wore, how you paraded it as if you were kings and queens. I remember how you tried to humiliate me and Jianrong that day—so much so that even Zhou Zhiqiang had to drag his wife away in embarrassment." Her lips curled in a cold smile. "So tell me, when I finally shine, why shouldn't my children shine with me? My daughter did nothing wrong."
Her gaze shifted, locking onto Li Weimin like a hawk. "And you. Why did you even go to that fruit-brand phone store in the first place? You weren't going to buy anything, were you? So if you hadn't gone sniffing around where you didn't belong, you wouldn't have been humiliated."
Li Weimin's face turned crimson. The sting of her words landed harder than a slap. His eyes welled up, and before he realized it, fat tears streamed down his cheeks. His voice broke as he cried aloud, unable to muster the courage to retort. He could not meet Li Jianfang's gaze, not when she radiated such overwhelming authority, not when that sharp-eyed young woman, An Lizi, stood silently behind her like a sentinel of judgment.
"Jianfang!" Old Lady Li cried out, her voice shrill with indignation. She pushed forward, shielding Li Weimin with her frail body like a mother hen. "How dare you speak to my grandson like that? He's only sixteen. Have you lost all rationality, scolding children as if they were your equals?"
Li Jianfang sneered, her eyes flashing. "My daughter and son are only fourteen, yet what did your Wang Yunmei say to them? That they are the reason I suffered? That my life is pathetic because of them? If you can excuse that venom, then don't lecture me about rationality, Mother."
Her words struck like thunder, silencing even Old Lady Li.
Wang Yunmei, however, refused to back down. She stepped forward, her voice rising in a shrill pitch. "What did I say wrong? If it weren't for your children, wouldn't you have married properly? Wouldn't you be living a happy, decent life instead of dragging your disgrace through all these years? Tell me, Jianfang, am I wrong?"
Li Jianfang's laughter burst forth, clear and cutting, her voice dripping with contempt. She took one step closer, her aura pressing down on everyone present. "When did you ever see me suffer, Yunmei? Look closely. Do I look like a woman in misery to you?" Her voice rang with conviction, each word a declaration of strength. "I am happier than I have ever been. More content than any of you standing here. And do you know why?" She turned, her gaze landing firmly on her children, her voice softening only slightly. "Because of them. My children—barely in their teens—have already given me a life of comfort and pride. They are my blessing."
Her eyes snapped back to Wang Yunmei, sharp and merciless. "Now tell me, what have your children done to make you proud, Yunmei? Can you name even one thing?"
The corridor fell silent once more, the words hanging in the air like a dagger aimed straight at Wang Yunmei's heart.
Li Weiguo felt as though invisible slaps were striking him across the face, one after another. Each time Wang Yunmei opened her mouth, his chest tightened with rage, and the impulse to strangle her alive clawed at him. Couldn't this foolish woman see the reality before her eyes? Li Jianfang and her family were no longer weak, helpless, or vulnerable like they once were. She had risen—independent, wealthy, and powerful. Instead of using this moment wisely, Wang Yunmei only fanned the flames, making things unbearably difficult for him.
Old Man Li, catching sight of his eldest son's pale, strained face, understood at once and sighed heavily. He could not allow the situation to spiral further. With the weight of his authority, he said, "Enough. That's enough from everyone. Today was meant to be a joyous occasion, a chance to sit together and let go of past grievances. And yet here you all are—arguing, tearing at each other like enemies."
His gaze hardened as he turned toward Wang Yunmei. "Especially you. This was a small matter between Weiqiang and Li Ziqing. Why did you interfere? Look at what you've done—escalating it to this level."
But before his words could settle, Li Jianfang's low chuckle cut through the air. Her voice, calm but sharp as a blade, interrupted without hesitation. "Don't you think you're a little late, Dad? Wang Yunmei has already spat her filth in front of my children, pouring poison into their ears and humiliating them. And only now do you realize it was unnecessary?"
A stunned silence swept through the corridor. Old Man Li's eyes widened. This… this was the first time someone had openly challenged his authority—and by Li Jianfang of all people. The girl who once trembled at the mere sound of his voice, the daughter who could barely meet his gaze in the same room, now dared to stand before him like this?
But Jianfang's expression carried no fear, no hesitation. Her words rang firm and unwavering. "Now I see your true intentions clearly. You only wanted to humiliate me—nothing else. The last time, I said I would sever ties with this family, and I should have done so then. Perhaps I was too softhearted. Even when Xiao Ping warned me not to accept your invitation, I foolishly ignored him. And now, here we are."
Her lips curved into a cold smile as she turned toward Li Jianguo. "I'll consider this lesson final and won't fall for it again. Next time, do not call me for these so-called family gatherings. Hold them without me. In fact, I was never truly a part of your family."
With that, she pivoted sharply and said with authority, "Let's go. Everyone."
Li Jianfang turned on her heel, her expression firm as she ordered, "Let's go."
But the moment her eyes swept the group, her steps faltered. Li Jianping stood at her side, his jaw clenched, his face flushed with anger. Li Zian was there too, his quiet strength written in his gaze. But—where was Li Ziqing?
Her heart lurched. "Where's A Qing?" she suddenly asked, her panicked voice cutting through the tense air.
Li Jianping blinked, startled by her tone. He glanced around in confusion, his brow furrowing. "She—" His words died in his throat, realization dawning. In the heated clash, in his own blinding anger, he hadn't even noticed. His hands tightened into fists. "I… I didn't realize. She must have slipped away."
Li Jianfang's face drained of color. Her eyes snapped to Li Zian, desperate for a different answer. But he only gave a grave shake of his head.
"She's gone."
Now true panic flared in Jianfang's chest. Her composure cracked, and dread poured in like icy water. The image of her daughter's pale face when she had first arrived flashed vividly before her eyes—the trembling lips, the tears brimming, the way she had stiffened at Wang Yunmei's poisonous words.
Did she believe it? The thought stabbed through her like a knife. Did my Ziqing truly believe she is a burden to me?
Her heartbeat pounded wildly, erratic and painful, as though her chest could no longer contain it. "No…" she whispered, her breath catching. Then, louder, sharp with desperation: "Ziqing!"
Without waiting, she bolted toward the restaurant's entrance, her pace quick and unsteady. Li Jianping cursed under his breath, stricken with guilt, and rushed after her. Li Zian followed close behind, his face ashen. An Lizi, though visibly shaken, kept stride with them, her eyes scanning every corner they passed through hotel.
But when they burst out into the open air, the world felt unbearably empty. The street was lined with traffic, people's shadows stretching across the cobblestones, but there was no trace of Li Ziqing.
Li Jianfang staggered to a halt, her breath ragged. The weight in her chest grew heavier by the second. A terrible fear crept in, threatening to crush her from within. She felt helpless. What if her daughter… what if she did something irrational?
Her knees nearly buckled. She clutched at her chest, forcing her voice out. "An Lizi! Call Zhou Yichen may be he—"
But before her order was complete, a soft voice came from behind, calm but hesitant.
"Auntie Fang."
The four of them spun around.
There, standing under the hostile afternoon sun was a boy of fifteen. His clothes were old, patched at the elbows, but they were immaculately clean. His posture was straight, his expression composed though slightly nervous.
Li Zian's eyes widened in recognition. "Li Weihua?"
The boy gave a small nod.
Then, as though remembering something, Zian stepped forward quickly, urgency sharpening his tone. "Did you… did you see A Qing?"
Weihua glanced between them, his gaze resting on Jianfang's pale, desperate face. He nodded slowly. "Yes. She left just a few minutes ago. I saw her take a taxi."
The world seemed to pause around Jianfang.
Weihua continued quickly, sensing the storm in her eyes. "Don't worry, Auntie Fang. She wasn't upset. She wasn't crying. In fact I even spoke to her…" He hesitated, then spoke with reassurance. "She got a phone call just before. I think she went to meet someone. She didn't look like she was running away."
The tension in Jianfang's chest loosened, though only slightly. Relief seeped in, softening the edges of her panic, but it could not erase the heaviness entirely.
She drew in a trembling breath and managed a small smile, her eyes softening as she looked at Weihua. "Thank you, Weihua. Truly."
Her voice carried warmth she seldom gave to anyone in Li family. Because among them, this boy was the only one she never resented. He had never looked down on her or her children, never spoken cruel words. Their contact had been minimal, but he had always been respectful, never hostile.
And she knew—though he was still so young—how hard he worked. While his useless father, Li Jianjun squandered time at mahjong tables, this boy quietly took up responsibilities, working part-time jobs to pay for his tuition and to help his mother Chen Lihua.
Li Jianfang's lips trembled as she forced her gratitude into words. "You… you're a good child, Weihua. Better than most of the adults in this family."
The boy flushed slightly at her praise, lowering his eyes. He didn't say anything though, he just nodded and ran into the restaurant.
Li Jianfang inhaled shakily, her heart still unsteady, but she stood taller, forcing herself to calm. Still, deep inside, the unease refused to leave her.
Ziqing… please don't let your mother's foolishness haunt you.
---
Li Ziqing did not even remember when her feet began to move. One moment, she had been standing in the corridor, her uncle's hand gripping her wrist; the next, she was drifting forward, out of the suffocating atmosphere, as if carried away by some unseen current.
Her chest felt tight, her breaths shallow. Each step was heavy, yet her body floated as though she were walking through a fog. Wang Yunmei's voice still rang in her ears—sharp, venomous, impossible to silence.
"If it weren't for you two, your mother wouldn't have lived such a pathetic life."
Her lips trembled. Her mind spun. And suddenly—like a blade tearing through the present—another voice overlapped with it, cold and merciless.
"Your suffering… was the result of your mother's mistake."
That man in black from her past life. The one who had ended her life in Myanmar. His words had been her last memory before everything went dark. She had buried them deep, refusing to let them fester. But now… they clawed their way back, relentless, merciless, ripping open wounds she thought had long scarred over.
Her steps faltered. She pressed a hand against the wall to steady herself.
Was it true?
Were she and Li Zian truly the reason her mother's life had been nothing but suffering?
If they had never been born… would her mother have married a good man, a kind man—someone who cherished her instead of destroying her? Would she have lived peacefully, instead of being dragged into the nightmare that was Zhao Shide?
A cruel laugh rose unbidden in her mind, the memory of his sneer etched into her bones. His fists, the stench of alcohol, the brutality that echoed through that house. The nights her mother shielded her with her own body, taking blows meant for her when she tried to apply for university. The countless mornings her face was swollen, bruised, yet she still forced a smile to cook breakfast.
All of it. For her.
Tears pricked at Li Ziqing's eyes, blurring the world around her. Her chest felt as though it were being torn apart, each breath sharp and painful.
Her mother's cries still echoed in her ears—despairing yet brimming with fierce love. That final image haunted her: her mother's lifeless body, swollen and drenched, dragged from the reservoir. The grief had etched itself so deeply in her mind that it felt as vivid now as the moment she had lived it.
How could she ever forget?
It had only been a month since her rebirth. In truth, with the System's guidance, she had lived these days with a comfort she never imagined in her past life. For a brief while, she had buried her anguish beneath new beginnings. But the ghosts of her past still clung to her, relentless and suffocating. She knew they would never release her until she unearthed the faceless hands that had dragged her family into misery.
Her mother's tragic end. Her brother's untimely death. Her uncle's cruel fate. All the suffering, all the pain—it had not been coincidence. Shadows had pulled the strings, and she would not rest until she found them and dragged them into the light.
Yet she also understood the bitter truth. Compared to those formidable enemies lurking in the dark, she was still too weak, too insignificant. She had to move slowly, carefully—like a predator waiting for the right moment to strike.
A single tear rolled down her cheek. She brushed it away with trembling fingers, drawing in a steadying breath.
When she finally came back to her senses, she realized she had wandered outside. The afternoon sun blazed high overhead, the asphalt radiating heat, and the street bustled with heavy traffic. She turned back to glance at the restaurant, her expression unreadable, but she had no intention of stepping back inside.
"Li Ziqing."
The sudden voice behind her made her stiffen. She turned and saw Li Weihua standing a few paces away.
She knew him—the son of her second uncle and Chen Lihua. Unlike Li Weiqiang and Li Weimin, whom she openly despised, Li Weihua inspired in her no hatred, only a quiet pity. Perhaps it was the way he carried himself, a boy caught between the scorn of others and his own silence.
Schooling her expression into calmness, she asked softly, "Li Weihua? What are you doing here? I didn't see you inside earlier. Did you just arrive?"
Li Weihua shook his head. "No, I came a little earlier. But…" He glanced down at his clothes—simple, slightly faded, worn at the seams. "If I had stepped into the crowd, Aunt Wang Yunmei and Li Weimin would've used me as their next target. They'd have called me unkempt, humiliated me. So I stayed in the corner instead."
A faint smile tugged at his lips, bitter but resigned. "But I heard everything she said. And… I think you should know something."
Li Ziqing's brows furrowed slightly. "What is it?"
Li Weihua's gaze darkened, but his voice remained steady. "I don't think you should judge Aunt Fang based on Aunt Yunmei's words. You only heard one side of the story. Yes, my uncle once wanted to marry her, and yes, she ran away. But put yourself in her place—wouldn't anyone have? I won't call my uncle a bad man, but he lived in a remote backwater village. Even now, that place feels cut off from the world. Sixteen years ago, it must have been even worse. Aunt Fang choosing to escape… that wasn't betrayal. That was survival."
For a moment, silence lingered between them. Then, unexpectedly, Li Ziqing smiled faintly.
"Thank you, Li Weihua. Truly. But don't worry—I'm not doubting my mother. I trust her more than anyone in this world." Her voice softened, tinged with rare warmth. "Still, I appreciate your words. They comforted me."
Li Weihua nodded earnestly and said, "It's good you think like that."
Li Ziqing curved her lips into a faint smile and was just about to respond when her phone buzzed. Glancing down, she saw an unfamiliar number flashing on the screen. For a moment she hesitated, but then she answered. After a brief exchange—her responses short, her tone measured—she ended the call with a quiet nod.
Slipping the phone back into her bag, she turned to Li Weihua. "I have something to take care of. I'll take my leave first, Weihua. Can you please let my mother know?"
Li Weihua nodded to help. "Don't worry. I'll tell Aunt Fang. You go and handle your matters."
"Thank you." She gave him a small nod, her expression softening just slightly.
Raising her hand, she hailed a passing taxi. The driver pulled over, and without hesitation, Li Ziqing slid inside. As the car eased into motion, she turned her gaze toward the window, her eyes lingering on the restaurant retreating in the distance.
To anyone else, it was just a modest eatery—a place of food, noise, and trivial quarrels. But to her, this place had carved a scar into her heart.
Her lips pressed into a thin line. Just moments ago, after hearing Wang Yunmei's venomous words, she had begun to blame herself all over again—for existing, for being born, for becoming the source of her mother's suffering. The thought festered like poison.
But as the taxi wove into the chaotic stream of afternoon traffic, another thought struck her—sharp, sudden, and unshakable. Her hands curled into tight fists on her lap, her nails biting into her palms.
Her existence had never been hers alone to bear. Her mother was not the only one entwined in her fate.
There was someone else.
Someone she had never dared to think of.
Her father.
The man who had given her life.
Across both lifetimes, Li Ziqing had buried that question deep within her soul, refusing to touch it. She had never asked who he was, why he had vanished like a shadow before she ever took her first breath, or why her mother had raised her in silence, as if that man had never existed at all.
Yet now—for the first time—the question rose, raw and unrelenting, hammering against her chest.
Who are you?
And why… why did you abandon us?
The city rushed past her in a blur of light and shadow, but Li Ziqing sat motionless, her heart drowning in a storm of anguish and unfamiliar yearning. For the first time in both her lives, she felt the desperate need to uncover the truth of the man who had cast such a long shadow over her existence.