The tragedy of Lin Yueling had only just begun. The breakdown in her hospital room had been the first wave of grief crashing over her. But there would be more waves coming, each one potentially more devastating than the last, as the full scope of her losses became undeniable.
And there was no one left to catch her when she finally drowned in them.
— — — — —
Meanwhile, across the city in the transformed Lin mansion, Shuyin walked through bright, sunlit corridors toward the kitchen, the soft hum of household activity surrounding her like a comforting blanket. The atmosphere had changed so completely since morning that it felt like a different house entirely. Light poured through windows that had been opened to afternoon air. Servants moved with purposeful energy rather than fearful efficiency. The oppressive weight that had always hung over this estate had lifted, replaced by something approaching actual life.
