Leng Xuanmo stood by the tall window in the east wing corridor, the pale morning light casting shadows along the floor. He was silent, arms crossed, gaze fixed on the gardens below. The door behind him creaked open, followed by quick but hesitant footsteps.
Leng Yumo stepped inside. Her voice was tight.
"I told her."
Xuanmo didn't turn. "Told who?"
"Jingyan," she said, firmer this time. "I told her everything. That I was the one who asked you to do it. That I came crying to you about being mocked, and you… you acted on it."
Silence fell like a blade.
Finally, he turned around slowly, eyes cold and unreadable. "You did what?"
"I couldn't keep quiet anymore," she said, lifting her chin. "She deserved to know it wasn't just your decision. I was part of it."
"You didn't just tell her, Yumo," he said, voice dangerously low. "You dragged open a wound I've been trying to find a way to close."
"You mean cover up?" she snapped. "Because that's what you've been doing. Not fixing. Just hiding."
Leng Xuanmo's jaw tensed. "We agreed never to bring it up again."
"No, you decided that," she shot back. "I've been carrying the weight of it too. Do you think I slept easy after she left?"
"You were the one who begged me to protect you," he snapped. "You cried in this very room. You said you wanted them to pay—"
"I was a kid!" she shouted, voice cracking. "I didn't know what I was asking. I just wanted it to stop. I didn't want you to ruin her life."
His eyes narrowed. "You say that now, but back then you didn't care how it happened as long as someone suffered for it."
"I didn't think you'd go that far!" she screamed. "You wiped out her family's reputation. You broke her. And now, you act like it was your burden alone? No. I helped cause this, and I needed her to know it."
He stepped toward her, slowly. "And what good did that do, Yumo? You think it made her forgive you?"
"No," she whispered, swallowing hard. "But it made me finally honest."
Xuanmo stared at her for a long moment, chest rising and falling heavily.
Behind them, Li Zeyan stood quietly by the door, not daring to interrupt.
"I've spent months trying to fix what happened," Xuanmo said. "And now you go behind me and expose everything?"
"I told the truth," she said softly, eyes gleaming. "Because I want her to know I'm not proud of it. I want her to know… I was wrong."
"You think a few tears and a confession will erase what we did?" he asked bitterly.
"No," she said, voice shaking. "But it's a start. And maybe one day she'll stop hating us."
He turned away, running a hand through his hair, jaw clenched.
Yumo hesitated, then added quietly, "You keep pretending it was all your fault. But we both know I lit the match."
Xuanmo didn't respond. Didn't move.
She waited a moment longer. When he said nothing, she turned and walked out, the door clicking softly shut behind her.
Only then did Xuanmo speak—his voice low, empty.
"She was never supposed to get hurt."
Li Zeyan bowed his head, silent.
And for a long time, the room was filled with nothing but silence—and regret.