In the instant Ni Yueying yanked her down, Ye Tan slammed her hand on the table, her eyes flashing red with fury.
Ni Yueying calmly poured Ye Tan a cup of water. “Don’t get angry all the time. You’ll get wrinkles.”
Her advice offered no comfort. Ye Tan grew even angrier. “Ni Yueying, you know exactly who she is. How can you have the nerve to call her ‘big sister’? Aren’t you afraid you’ll shorten her lifespan!”
?
Ye Xi had initially thought Ye Tan was scolding Ni Yueying for calling her “mom.” But now it seemed it wasn’t about that “mom” remark—it was because Ni Yueying was calling Ren Shu “big sister.”
Ni Yueying placed the water next to Ye Tan’s hand and opened her mouth helplessly. “So how should I address her? Tell her I’m the mom of her good friend? A-Tan, she’s Ye Lan’s best friend, the lover of Ye Lan’s contract beast, but she’s also an ordinary human who’s never touched the demon world.”
Ye Xi was curious, but the rabbit was even more so.
You Nian’s round eyes fixed on Ye Tan, curiosity practically spilling from them. “Who is that Grandma Ren?”
“None of your…”
Ye Tan started to say “none of your business,” but her gaze met Ye Xi’s equally curious eyes. Her lips pressed into a thin line. She pushed Ni Yueying, signaling her to speak.
A flash of sorrow crossed Ni Yueying’s eyes, her breath mingling with grief in that instant. “She’s Feng Qing’s lover.”
Feng Qing was no one else but Feng Xian’s best friend—and Ye Lan’s contract beast.
With the Ye Clan withering away rapidly and their numbers dwindling, preserving the bloodline had been urgent. Thus, Ye Lan and Ye Jing had contract beasts assigned to them from childhood. These beasts were the most outstanding children selected by their families, and Feng Qing had been the most talented of the Flower Leopard Clan at the time.
Feng Qing had been by Ye Lan’s side for as long as she’d known Ye Tan.
To Ye Tan, Feng Qing had been like her own child.
Ren Shu had been Feng Qing’s lover back then.
Ye Lan was extremely cautious by nature, and with so many bizarre deaths in the Ye family, she trusted no one outside her family except Feng Qing. Because Feng Qing was close to Feng Xian, Feng Xian had the chance to get near her and become her lover. And since Ren Shu was Feng Qing’s lover, she became Ye Lan’s one and only human friend.
Ren Shu had lost her parents young. She was an excellent cook and loved being relied upon by others.
During her passionate romance with Feng Qing, Ye Lan often went to her home for meals. Sometimes she didn’t stop at eating there—she’d pack leftovers to bring home for Ye Tan. So even though Ye Tan had never met Ren Shu, her impression of her was deep and positive.
Ye Tan had even joked with Feng Qing that to prevent this one human from being bullied by a demon like her, she planned to adopt Ren Shu as a goddaughter. If Feng Qing ever mistreated her, she’d wipe Feng Qing out on behalf of the family and tell her not to bully an orphan girl.
Of course, that had been impossible.
Feng Qing and Ren Shu’s relationship had been strong. Ever since Ye Tan mentioned adopting Ren Shu, Feng Qing nagged her about it every meeting. She truly wanted to give Ren Shu some backing.
Ye Tan had said she’d do it once Feng Qing came clean about her demon identity. She never imagined the story would end so abruptly. Feng Qing hadn’t even revealed her demon side or brought Ren Shu into her world before vanishing alongside Ye Lan. No bodies were found—only dissipating blood essence confirmed their deaths.
That year, Ye Tan lost two children at once, plus the life that had existed like a goddaughter by their side.
She had been the one who suffered the most.
Ye Tan hadn’t dared face Ren Shu or Feng Xian. She’d even sent someone else to deliver the news of their deaths.
Feng Xian was a demon who’d met her and could go to the General Bureau to confront her. But Ren Shu couldn’t. Only after the death notice did she realize she knew Feng Qing’s friends but not her family. Nowhere to ask, nowhere to search—she could only silently face death upending her life once more.
As a child, she’d accepted her parents’ deaths. As an adult, her lover’s.
Death clung to her relentlessly, yet spared her life, leaving her to suffer alone in the world, clinging to memories.
Ren Shu fell into depression for years. Ni Yueying had stumbled upon this restaurant by chance. Back then, Ren Shu wasn’t so old yet—just emerging from her depression. Feng Qing had left her substantial wealth. She hadn’t opened the place to make money but to find some mental solace.
After recognizing Ren Shu, Ni Yueying became a frequent visitor.
She couldn’t reveal her true identity. She still hadn’t found Feng Qing’s body. She feared Ren Shu would ask where she was buried, or that the demon world would terrify her. With no demon left to protect her, dragging her into that world might bring danger.
Ni Yueying could only visit as an ordinary customer, checking on Ren Shu through the shop.
She loved Ren Shu’s cooking—not just for the taste, but because it reminded her of Ye Lan’s favorite dishes in life. Through Ren Shu, this gradually aging “child,” she secretly imagined what her own child might look like in old age.
Ye Lan had died young, withering so swiftly and hastily, not even leaving a body.
When Ni Yueying looked at Ren Shu, her gaze fell on Feng Qing—and even more on Ye Lan.
On the surface, Ni Yueying’s emotions remained calm. She didn’t rage like Ye Tan or dissolve in sorrow, but her heart wasn’t at peace. It was riddled with holes, filled with countless pains.
The people she cared for couldn’t be kept.
The ones she loved hated her.
When Ni Yueying spoke of her lover hating herself, her gaze fell on Ye Tan. She rarely discussed this with her, and Ye Tan had no patience for it.
Today, with Ye Xi there, Ye Tan didn’t storm off. She sat quietly and listened.
Her lips moved, but no heartfelt words came out.
Ni Yueying didn’t dwell on the topic or linger her gaze on Ye Tan. She turned to the silent Ye Xi. “You have to stay alive.”
In that moment, Ye Xi truly understood the weight behind Ni Yueying’s words about not losing another child. She wasn’t just a pure tool. She’d been born as evidence, yes, but her life blended hope—and so much love.
Ye Tan’s love for her was protective. Ni Yueying’s was heavier. But neither skimped on affection.
It was the kind of love that would stake one’s life.
Two children gone in the same year, so close in time—this had to be a premeditated mental torment. The target? The only surviving Ye Tan. Unable to kill the powerful Ye Tan outright, they’d aimed to shatter her spirit.
Cruel. Inhuman.
Ye Xi felt unprecedented rage. She could imagine Ren Shu wasn’t unique. Over a millennium, tens of thousands of Ye Clan members had died hastily. How many perished just as love budded? How many died before confessing their identities? How many loved ones never found bodies?
Love at its peak, then suddenly facing a lover’s death—without even a final glimpse of the corpse.
This went beyond simple “pain.”
Ye Xi stared toward the kitchen, picturing Ren Shu bustling about. Suddenly, she saw shadows of so many others. She began to understand why Ni Yueying kept coming here.
Ren Shu’s cooking wasn’t fast. Only after You Nian’s third “I’m hungry” did the dishes start arriving.
They weren’t fancy—just basic home-style fare. But this was exactly what Ye Tan and the others craved most. Especially Ye Tan, who’d tasted Ren Shu’s cooking long ago. When the osmanthus braised pork hit the table, her eyes reddened. As she brought a piece to her lips, a teardrop fell straight from the corner of her eye.
Ye Tan swallowed the meat with a muffled gulp. Bitterness spread on her tongue. She hadn’t tasted it properly, but she praised Ren Shu immediately. “Delicious.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
Ren Shu smiled kindly, her face creasing with wrinkles.
Ye Xi watched Ren Shu, vaguely recalling she was only around fifty—not truly old, just appearing so.
She looked seventy or eighty, but technically still middle-aged.
Ye Xi’s peripheral vision caught Ye Tan’s dazed state. She called to Ren Shu. “Auntie Ren, sit down with us. Let’s eat together.”
Ren Shu didn’t refuse but glanced at Ye Tan.
Ni Yueying had clearly made such requests before—they’d shared many meals. Without Ni Yueying’s “mother-in-law” there, she might have agreed instantly.
Ren Shu seemed to mistake Ye Tan for an unapproachable “mother-in-law.” Noticing Ren Shu’s cautious gaze, Ye Tan shot a fierce glare at the culprit Ni Yueying, venting silently. Then her expression softened as she warmly invited Ren Shu. “Little Shu, sit with us. You’re my daughter’s friend—like my own child in my eyes.”
Ren Shu laughed awkwardly. “You’re… too young.”
“Then I’m still the elder. You’re the kid.”
Thanks to Ni Yueying’s “big sis” slip and that “mom” earlier, Ye Tan now faced Ren Shu with the proper role.
She looked at Ren Shu earnestly, seeing through her the Ye Lan chattering beside her about how great the braised pork was. Her chopsticks trembled slightly as she reached out.
Ye Tan picked up another piece of braised pork and bit down hard. Teardrops rolled down her cheeks like a broken string of beads.
Bitterness churned in her stomach. She set down her chopsticks and covered her mouth.
Ye Xi watched, her heart aching with Ye Tan’s. She picked some other dishes for her. “Grandma, try something else.”
“Okay.”
Ye Tan forced a smile and picked up her chopsticks again.
Ren Shu watched the scene curiously, then asked the familiar Ni Yueying softly. “Little Ying, is my cooking bad today?”
“No, it’s quite good.”
Ni Yueying reached out, gently patting Ye Tan’s back in slow, soothing strokes.
Ni Yueying’s eyes brimmed with heartache—seen by Ren Shu. Her brows furrowed slowly, sensing something off in the atmosphere.
Seeing Ren Shu’s attention drawn to Ni Yueying and Ye Tan—and seeming to notice the oddity—Ye Xi quickly diverted her. “Auntie Ren, your cooking is really amazing. I’ve never had home-style dishes this good.”
Flattered by Ye Xi, Ren Shu smiled bashfully.
Her gaze shifted to Ye Xi. She hadn’t looked closely when they entered, but now at the table, she noticed something different.
Ren Shu’s eyes flicked between Ye Xi and Shen Mingjin. Suddenly, she said, “You two… you’re a couple, right?”
“How did you know?”
“Probably because my lover was a girl too. I think I’m pretty good at spotting it.” Mentioning her lover brought a brief spark to Ren Shu’s eyes. Intense longing made her mutter, “I miss her a lot.”
Ye Xi: “She must have been beautiful.”
Ren Shu sank into memory, piecing together Feng Qing’s appearance. It never quite completed. She touched her head sheepishly. “I don’t really remember exactly what she looked like anymore, but I remember she was very beautiful.”
“Don’t you have photos of her?”
“I do.” Ren Shu smiled. “But I don’t dare look too much. If I do, I won’t want to live. I promised my parents—and her—that I’d live well no matter what.”
Ren Shu’s tone was flat, a flash of pain in her cloudy eyes. She’d emerged from depression but not from the relationship.
She remained trapped in daily grief over the death notice, no new people or old ones around. She placed herself in utter loneliness, awaiting life’s end.
That’s why at fifty, she looked seventy or eighty. Extreme pain had eroded her vitality, turning her into a flickering candle in old age. Perhaps she still hoped death would come sooner.
Ren Shu didn’t linger in sorrow. She quickly shifted topics, chatting about recent fun happenings. The more she spoke, the more spirited she became, her wrinkles even easing a bit.
She looked vibrant and energetic.
Ye Tan truly treated her like a child. Once recovered a little, she chimed in, laughing along, her warmth toward Ren Shu nearly matching that for Ye Xi.
The meal passed warmly—though aside from You Nian, no one’s mind was on the food.
Warm times always flew by. As dusk fell, it was time to go.
Ren Shu refused their money, but Ni Yueying paid anyway.
The two, being the most familiar, naturally exchanged a few more pleasantries. Ye Xi supported Ye Tan as they walked out. Watching Ye Tan, who kept looking back, she thought for a moment and suddenly turned around. “Auntie Ren, we’ll come again next time.”
“Good. You’re welcome to bring the whole family next time.” Ren Shu loved to smile, and when she did, her cloudy eyes regained their sparkle. Her affectionate gaze mingled with joy. “Next time, don’t give me any money. Just come over for a family meal. To be honest, being with you all makes me so happy too. I haven’t felt this happy in a long time.”
Ye Xi pouted and quickly bowed her head. “Auntie Ren, goodbye.”
She hurried out of Ren Shu’s shop. While waiting for Ni Yueying to emerge, Shen Mingjin secretly gripped her hand tight.
Ye Xi glanced sideways at the usually reticent Shen Mingjin in confusion. “Sister, what’s wrong?”
Shen Mingjin clutched the pillow in one hand while lacing her fingers through Ye Xi’s with the other. Her uneven breathing betrayed her panic. “Xiao Xi, neither of us should die.”
“Okay!”
Ye Xi agreed without the slightest hesitation—it was exactly what she wanted too.
Ren Shu was different from Feng Xian. She was an utterly ordinary human, her life finite, and pain left its marks on her body.
At fifty, she looked like an old crone, her hair white and her body frail with age.
There was no hysterical rage, no extreme emotions—just quiet acceptance.
She tormented herself in silence, quietly grinding away at her own life.
That very calmness made her suffering all the more relatable. Ye Xi and Shen Mingjin both silently agreed it was a dead end. Neither wanted to become the one left living after losing their beloved.
Their eyes met, tears shimmering. Ye Tan let out a soft sigh. “Xiao Xi, Mingjin, you two head back to Half-Mountain Spirit Garden first. I’ll wait here for Ni Yueying.”
Ye Tan knew their emotions were fragile and they needed time alone to steady themselves. She needed it too.
The cold street wind howled past, raising goosebumps on their skin. Seeing Ye Xi and Shen Mingjin still rooted in place, she reached out and gave them a push. “Go on, head back.”
