Chapter 339:
His father's death had settled over the already desolate Lin Manor like a second, heavier silence.
His mother, Yao Shan, spent her days sitting vacant in the courtyard, endlessly turning the pages of the ledgers his father had copied by hand, adrift in thoughts no one could reach.
Lin Xiaoliu, however, came often, always bringing his child along. The boy had grown tall and sturdy. He'd attended both the literary and martial academies, and though he showed no particular gift, his saving grace was an honest, grounded nature. When his parents arranged a marriage for him, he raised no objections. His betrothed was a beautiful, gentle-natured young woman from a respectable family. In his own words: if the Lin family's foundation hadn't been so solid, a girl like her would never have looked twice at him. He was more than content.
Liu Wujun also came frequently, brimming with tales from the Rain Palace. The fierce, restless drive to break through that had once defined him was gone. With the world at peace and commerce flourishing, society had drifted into quiet recuperation. The dangers of the outside world had diminished drastically, and life was steadily improving. Stripped of the harsh environment that had once driven him forward, his urgency had hollowed out. Though only in his seventies, he already looked old, his former vigor drained away.
Liu Xiao and Lin Hui also devoted plenty of time to keeping Yao Shan company—chatting idly to fill the hours, personally cooking her favorite meals.
But nothing they did could lift her spirits.
In the blink of an eye, another year slipped by.
Wind Prison