Dragging his tired body, Song Zhiqing returned to the residence. Last night he had kept vigil over the spirit at Xingshan Temple all night, had even taken sick leave from morning court. That could be counted as fulfilling the bond of husband and wife he once had with Bai Shuilian.
He entered the Leisure Courtyard; everything inside was as before, not the slightest change. In the main room, it was as if that person would, like in the old days, lean against the doorframe, smiling charmingly as she nodded to him and said, "Sanlang, you're back."
But after he waited a moment, nothing—she did not come out.
Or rather, she would never come out again.
Song Zhiqing could not say what he was feeling, only that his chest felt stifled. Looking around, he saw no servants moving about the courtyard either. As if, with the people of this courtyard gone, those who served them had also seized the chance to slack off.
A surge of nameless anger shot up from the soles of his feet.
