Yixuan fell silent for a moment. The words of his second elder brother were indeed quite sharp. After a long while, he could only chuckle lightly. "Otherwise, what can we do?" Yes, what else can we do? Shu Yu had gone, and the guqin was his treasure. After carefully placing the guqin in its place, he caressed the instrument’s body with lingering affection. This qin was rather old, and upon careful calculation, it seemed to be about as old as he was. It was said to be a guqin personally made by their father from a tree he had cut down before he and Shujun were born. After their father’s death, this guqin had become a keepsake. Mother was a remarkable woman, proficient in zither, chess, calligraphy, and painting. Though cold and selfish in nature, before her disappearance, she had not treated the six brothers well, but perhaps out of fear that they would not take care of her, that she would be paralyzed, uncared for, and starve to death in her bed, she turned from her original indifference to enthusiasm and started teaching them various skills. After arranging a marriage with Dong Dabao, one rainy night, mother disappeared without a trace. Afterwards, the eldest brother, along with his younger brothers, searched everywhere but could not find her. A living person had just vanished into thin air, as if evaporated from the world. To this day, Shu Yu did not know what his feelings were back then. After the rain stopped, he played the guqin in Baiyang Forest by the river. The piece he played was the first one his mother taught him, but because the sound of the music startled Dong Dabao. It was the only day that Dong Dabao laid hands on him, giving him a harsh slap. And it was that same day that the guqin was smashed by her. Now that the guqin had been repaired by him, the once broken traces still remained, like an ugly scar carved upon the body of the instrument. Even though it could still be played, it was after all once damaged. How could one not mind? A broken mirror is hard to mend, spilled water is hard to retrieve; things that have happened are scars that are unforgettable for life. He thought of Shujun, thought of Haoming, thought of Yue Ning, and thought of Yixuan. Wasn’t it possible that all the small-mindedness of the Liang family had settled in him alone? He truly could not learn their magnanimity. Even though he could guess that the reason why Yixuan and the others were willing to let go of their grudges was, to some extent, because of him. Because she had once asserted that she could cure her own illness, and just that alone was enough. But as for himself, how could he be calm and composed toward someone who had once carried him into the snowy mountains, nearly causing him to freeze to death, and who had repeatedly been violent, leaving his brothers injured? Shu Yu curved his lips slightly, then closed the cabinet door and turned around, once again adopting a calm and indifferent demeanor, elegantly stepping out of the room. Dong Huiying had a good sleep and woke up in the latter part of the night. She was so hungry that she could feel her back sticking to her chest, so rubbing her flattened stomach, she stumbled out in search of something to eat. In the darkness, a dim yellow light flickered in the kitchen. Yixuan was sitting on a stool, idly moving a stick through the dry wood on the ground. The firelight reflected on his face, casting a warm hue across his features, but from his appearance, he seemed to be preoccupied, his thoughts elsewhere. "Why are you still up so late?" Yixuan came to his senses and, looking up, smiled softly, "I was afraid you’d be hungry, so I waited here." He dropped the stick and got up to lift the lid off the pot. "The fire in the stove has not gone out, and everything is still warm. Would you like some?" "Yes," she smiled sweetly, "I’m really starving." Seeing how tired you seemed, I didn’t have the heart to wake you, but second brother also said that you seem to have gained some weight."