chapter 3

after my mother died I live in the remote courtyard for a year.

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I was wandering through the small courtyard assigned to me when my maid, Xiren, came running toward me. Her face was pale, and her breathing was uneven, as though she had run across the entire manor.

"Miss! Miss!" she cried.

I immediately grabbed her shoulders. "Xiren, what happened?"

She looked around nervously before lowering her voice.

"Your grandfather... he is being executed."

For a moment, I thought I had misheard her.

"What are you saying?" I asked, my voice trembling. "Executed?"

Xiren nodded, tears gathering in her eyes.

"They accused him of embezzling military funds. He was responsible for supplying food to the soldiers at the northern border, but the food never reached them. Many soldiers starved to death because of it. Now the Imperial Court has sentenced him to death."

My mind went blank.

"No..." I whispered.

"The families of the dead soldiers demanded justice," Xiren continued. "The entire city is gathered at the execution grounds."

I stumbled backward. My grandfather was the only person who had ever truly loved me after my mother's death. He had protected me whenever he could.

Without another word, I turned and ran.

"Miss!" Xiren shouted.

But I did not stop.

I rushed through the manor gates and into the crowded streets. My heart pounded against my chest as I pushed through the sea of people. The closer I got to the execution grounds, the louder the noise became.

People were shouting.

People were cursing.

People were demanding blood.

By the time I arrived, the square was already packed.

I forced my way through the crowd until I finally saw him.

My grandfather knelt upon the execution platform, his hands bound behind his back. His once-fine robes had been replaced by the rough clothing of a criminal. His hair was disheveled, and his face looked older than I remembered.

The executioner stood beside him with a massive blade resting upon his shoulder.

My breath caught in my throat.

"Grandfather..." I whispered.

The executioner raised his blade.

At that moment, my grandfather seemed to sense my presence.

Slowly, he turned his head.

Our eyes met across the crowd.

For a single moment, all the noise disappeared.

I expected fear.

I expected regret.

Instead, he smiled.

It was the same gentle smile he had given me when I was a child.

A smile filled with warmth.

A smile filled with love.

A smile meant only for me.

Then the blade fell.

Everything happened in an instant.

A flash of steel.

A spray of red.

His head rolled across the platform.

My grandfather was gone.

"No!"

The scream tore from my throat.

I fell to my knees, sobbing uncontrollably. Tears blurred my vision as grief crashed over me like a tidal wave. I did not know what I was feeling anymore. Pain. Shock. Anger. Despair.

All I knew was that he was gone.

Around me, the crowd erupted into cheers.

"Justice!"

"He deserved it!"

"The criminal is dead!"

Their voices stabbed into my ears.

As they celebrated, I could only cry.

I cried until my throat was raw.

my maid to me out of the sea of people.

I cried until I could barely breathe.

And for the first time since my mother's death, I felt truly alone.

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By the time I returned to the Li Manor, the sky had already darkened.

My eyes were swollen from crying, and my legs felt weak from running. The image of my grandfather's final smile would not leave my mind. No matter how hard I tried, I could still see the blade falling.

I slipped through the side gate, hoping to return to my courtyard unnoticed.

"Miss..."

Xiren's frightened voice stopped me.

The color drained from my face.

Servants stood on both sides of the path with their heads lowered. At the end of the courtyard stood my father, Minister Li Zhaoxian.

His expression was colder than winter ice.

I immediately understood.

He knew.

"Father..." I whispered.

"Where have you been?" he asked.

His voice was calm, but that calmness was far more terrifying than anger.

I lowered my head and remained silent.

"Answer me."

The pressure in his voice made my body tremble.

"I... I went out."

"And where did you go?"

The servants around us became even quieter.

I clenched my fists.

"I went to see Grandfather."

The moment those words left my mouth, the atmosphere froze.

My father's face darkened instantly.

"You dared to leave this manor without permission?"

"He was my grandfather!" I cried. "I only wanted to see him one last time!"

"One last time?" my father repeated with a cold laugh.

His eyes filled with disgust.

"That criminal deserved his death."

I stared at him in disbelief.

That was the man who had once used my grandfather's wealth to build his career.

The man who had taken everything from him.

Yet now he spoke as though my grandfather were nothing more than dirt beneath his feet.

"He trusted you," I said through tears.

"Enough!"

He turned toward the servants.

"Bring the punishment rod."

The courtyard fell silent.

Xiren immediately dropped to her knees.

"Master, please! The Young Miss is only a child!"

"Silence."

My father's voice was cold and merciless.

He looked directly at me.

"You left the manor without permission. You went to see a condemned criminal despite my orders. Fifty strikes to the hands."

My heart sank.

I knew arguing would only make things worse.

Slowly, I stepped forward and held out my trembling hands.

A servant hesitated before lifting the rod.

The first strike landed with a sharp crack.

Pain shot through my palm.

I bit my lip.

The second strike came.

Then the third.

Then the fourth.

Each blow felt like fire spreading through my fingers and bones.

By the tenth strike, my hands had become red and swollen.

By the twentieth, I could barely keep them raised.

Tears streamed down my face, but I refused to beg.

Not in front of him.

Not in front of the servants.

My father watched without the slightest trace of pity.

To him, I was merely a disobedient daughter who had shamed him by publicly mourning the man he wanted everyone to forget.

The strikes continued.

Twenty-five.

Thirty.

Thirty-five.

Forty.

My hands shook uncontrollably.

Every impact sent another wave of agony through my arms.

Xiren was sobbing quietly from where she knelt.

Several servants lowered their heads, unable to watch.

Yet no one dared to intervene.

Finally, the fiftieth strike fell.

The rod lowered.

My arms dropped weakly to my sides.

Both palms were swollen and burning with pain.

My father stared at me for a long moment.

"The merchant family is finished," he said coldly. "Your grandfather is dead. Do not embarrass this household by speaking of him again."

I lowered my head.

Blood rushed in my ears.

My hands throbbed with every heartbeat.

But the pain in my chest was far worse.

My grandfather had died with a smile on his face.

My father had punished me for wanting to see him one last time.

At that moment, I realized that no matter how obedient I was, he would never see me as his daughter.

I remained kneeling in the courtyard as he walked away.

The pain in my hands would fade one day.

What happened today would not.

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