Bai Shuilian knew she couldn’t escape death, yet she never expected to die at the hands of Song Zhiqing, the man she once loved dearly.

As her neck was gripped by a large hand and her breathing became labored, Bai Shuilian couldn’t help but panic, accompanied by a wave of unwillingness, she began to struggle.

She was unwilling.

She struggled; Song Zhiqing tightened his grip, one hand not being enough, he used both.

"You... cough. Xiao Wu, Yi’er..."

She shouldn’t have mentioned them; as soon as she did, Song Zhiqing’s anger intensified, he shouted, "Don’t mention them, you don’t deserve to. You never truly cared for these children or treated them as your own; otherwise, you wouldn’t have used them to stir trouble, resulting in Yi’er becoming a fool. You vile woman, you’re so cruel, you deserve to die."

Bai Shuilian grasped his hands, her eyes growing wider and her legs gradually leaving the ground.

She had been asleep for a day and a night, her body weak, and being in this damp, cold dark cell, her body had long since frozen stiff. Now, being strangled, breathing became increasingly difficult.

As her vision grew blurrier, her consciousness began to fade, glaring at Song Zhiqing with fish-like dead eyes, she struggled to utter three words, "You’re so ruthless."

Song Zhiqing didn’t notice her weakening strength, her slowing breathing. In his mind, there was only one thought: this woman couldn’t be kept alive, or his political path would be halted, his future ruined.

She couldn’t stay, she couldn’t.

Keeping her would only constantly remind him of how foolish he had been.

He suddenly exerted force, a slight cracking sound was heard, Scarred Face glanced over from the dark cell entrance, raising an eyebrow.

Bai Shuilian’s body stiffened, her hands dropped limply, her lips moved, consciousness swallowed by darkness.

And in the instant her consciousness completely vanished, she suddenly recalled years ago, descending the mountain with a bamboo basket and bumping into that person before being taken back.

If she could do it over, she would never go down the mountain—never.

Song Zhiqing felt a weight in his hands, regained his senses, only to see Bai Shuilian’s neck, which he had been gripping, crooked beside his hand, her large eyes seemed to protrude from her sockets, glaring at him.

Song Zhiqing instinctively let go, she fell to the ground, lifeless.

She was dead.

Song Zhiqing almost let out a scream, staring dumbly at his hands, then at the person on the ground, her neck still twisted grotesquely, eyes fixed in his direction.

Eyes still open in death.

Song Zhiqing’s legs gave way, he plunked down on the ground, wanting to scream, yet the sound wouldn’t come, and in desperation, his lower abdomen relaxed, warm sensation immediately spreading between his legs.

Scarred Face detected the faint smell of urine in the air, looked scornfully at the terrified Song Zhiqing, and shook his head.

Truly useless.

A rat scurried past beneath Song Zhiqing’s crotch, he screamed in fright, scrambled up from the ground, and bolted out of the cell.

After a few steps, he ran back, staring at Scarred Face, said, "Madam Bai just died in the guesthouse at Xingshan Temple, do you understand? You move the body to the coffin parked at Xingshan Temple, switch the corpse over, do you hear me?"

Scarred Face crossed his arms, blinked, and nodded.

Seeing him nod, Song Zhiqing dared not glance at Bai Shuilian’s body again, as if chased by demons, he ran away swiftly.

Scarred Face clicked his tongue, walked inside, took a tattered mat, wrapped up Bai Shuilian, and carried her away.

In the small study, Song Zhiyuan listened to his trusted subordinate report that Bai Shuilian was dead, and that the third master personally did it, he sneered and tugged at the corner of his mouth, saying, "Got it."