Sunlight streamed into the studio, dividing the space neatly in two.
In the illuminated half were many paintings, all depicting the same woman—silver hair, red eyes, a radiant smile. In the shadowed half, only a few paintings hung. They portrayed the same person, yet somehow different.
A young man was painting there. He had red eyes, the distinctive trait of descendants of the War God.
He worked with intense focus, sketching and coloring in one smooth flow without pause. In the end, a black-haired woman with violet eyes appeared on the canvas, her expression cold as she gazed to the left.
“I only found out you returned to Changyuan because Yining told me.” The man recalled the slightly dissatisfied tone of the woman named Yining. “And I wasn’t even the first to know. How heartbreaking.”
“You’ve really changed a lot.” His thumb brushed over the woman’s painted face, his eyes filled with deep longing.
“When you see me again… what will you do?”
“He already knows I’m back. I could feel his gaze.” After paying the driver, Mo Ying got out of the car.
Before her stretched a lush forest, with a narrow path winding forward.
“If I see him, I’d like to stab him again.” Thinking of the man, Mo Ying’s expression darkened.
He owed her far more than just one stab.
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After walking for a few minutes, Mo Ying stopped in front of two graves. They were clearly neglected—fallen leaves littered the ground, and spider webs clung to the headstones.
With a snap of her fingers, black-gold flames flared up, instantly burning away the leaves and webs. When the fire faded, the gravestones were completely unharmed. She then placed a bouquet of flowers down.
“Dad. Mom. I’m here.”
Mo Ying gently brushed her fingers over her parents’ names carved into the stone.
“As your daughter, I didn’t get to see you one last time. And I only came to visit four years after your burial.” She shook her head. “You must resent me. Otherwise… why can’t I find your souls in the Netherworld?”
She exhaled softly. “I shouldn’t curse you by wishing your souls are still wandering there. I should think positively. Maybe… you’ve already found peace.”
Her thoughts drifted back to long ago.
“We worked so hard to earn more money so you could live a safe, ordinary life—even if you were just average.” Her father had gently patted her head. “But we seem to have overlooked something more important. We won’t miss your birthdays anymore.”
“Our daughter isn’t ordinary at all.” Her mother lit the candles on the cake. “She’s amazing—she even got first place. Still, your father and I share the same wish: that you live a peaceful life. Of course, achieving something great wouldn’t be bad either.”
“…What a shame.” Mo Ying murmured.
“I’m already far from a peaceful life. And I’m no longer loyal to the family.” Her voice was calm. “This time, I came back… to make them pay. You’ll support me, won’t you?”
The two gravestones stood in silence.
Mo Ying never expected an answer. She turned and left.
“I’m going now. I’ll come visit you again.”
She didn’t leave the cemetery. Instead, she went to a corner where a small mound of earth stood, marked by a headstone with no name.
“Yining said he built a cenotaph for me. So it’s real.” Mo Ying picked up the apple placed in front of the stone, lowered her eyes, and stayed silent for a few seconds before letting out a mocking smile.
“How hypocritical.”
She put the apple back. As she straightened up, her movement froze.
A gun was pressed against the back of her head.
A man stood behind her, finger on the trigger, smiling.
“I knew you’d come here.”
“Long time no see, my ex-girlfriend.”

