allonlinenovel Chapter 1266 Yun Rui's sincerity: Burned and confused
Chapter 1266 Yun Rui's sincerity: Burned and confused
Yan Wanqing's back hit the cold bookshelf, and ancient books fell down and hit her feet. Yan Taifeng's heavy breathing, the sound of rain, and the mechanical ticking of the clock mixed together and pierced her eardrums.
She slowly slid down to the ground, hugged her wet knees, and let the cold rain drip down her hair onto her neck.
Her father's crazy look and the words "She deserves to die" kept looping in her mind, like a rusty saw, repeatedly cutting her nerves.
After an unknown amount of time, the door of the study was blown open by the wind, and the draft swept up the mess on the floor. Yan Wanqing stood up trembling, but her legs felt as heavy as if they were filled with lead.
She touched her forehead, and the scorching heat made her eyes go dark. When she stumbled out of the study, the hands of the old-fashioned clock pointed to three o'clock in the morning, and the bell echoed in the empty old house, which seemed particularly gloomy.
As she lay in bed, Yan Wanqing's consciousness began to blur. She swallowed the antipyretic medicine mixed with tears and the bitter taste spread.
The rain outside the window turned into hail at some point, hitting the glass windows with a bang.
She curled up in the quilt, her teeth chattering, and the scene in front of her eyes gradually distorted - the mahogany furniture turned into a black vortex, and her father's face and Qi Ruixiang's face overlapped, grinning at her.
In a high fever, she fell into a long dream.
The scene goes back to the summer of the previous year, when she was still a little girl with twin ponytails.
In her memory, Qi Zhifang was wearing a plain white shirt, gently holding her hand as they strolled in the garden. "Wanqing, be a kind person."
Qi Zhifang's voice is like the gurgling stream, with a faint scent of jasmine.
But the scene suddenly changed. Yan Taifeng broke into Qi Zhifang's room drunk and forced her onto the bed. Qi Zhifang struggled desperately, and her tears wet the pillowcase.
"No! Don't!" Yan Wanqing cried in her dream, and her body twitched violently in reality.
Sweat soaked the sheets, and she felt like she was trapped in a dark maze, surrounded by the voices of her father and Qi Ruixiang.
"She is a shameless woman!"
"I want your Yan family to pay for your blood debt with blood!"
The sounds exploded in her ears and her head was splitting.
Reality and dreams kept interweaving. She seemed to see Qi Zhifang standing beside the bed, covered in blood, reaching out to her: "Wanqing, help me..."
Yan Wanqing wanted to grab that hand, but found that her body could not move.
The lightning outside the window illuminated the room and cast a hideous shadow on the wall. She was horrified to find that the shadow on the wall was exactly the same as the posture she remembered when her father beat Qi Zhifang.
After an unknown amount of time, Yan Wanqing finally woke up from the nightmare, gasping for breath.
It was already daybreak, and the sunlight shone through the gaps in the curtains, shining on her face, which was as pale as paper.
She touched the pillow, which was already soaked with tears and sweat.
The feeling of physical weakness came over her like a tide, but at this moment, a voice in her heart became clearer and clearer - the truth her father told her might have been a lie from the beginning.
The answer that Qi Ruixiang is looking for may completely overturn the world she knows.
She struggled to sit up, her legs still weak. Looking at her miserable appearance in the dressing mirror, with tears still on her face, her eyes gradually became firm.
No matter how cruel the truth is, she will reveal it herself, for Qi Zhifang and for her own life that has been blinded by lies.
The rain outside the window stopped at some point. A white dove landed on the windowsill, and its cooing sound broke the silence of the old house. Yan Wanqing took a deep breath and took the first step towards the unknown truth.
Yan Wanqing stood up with the help of the dressing table, her legs shaking like a sieve, and she fell heavily to the ground after taking just one step.
The moment her forehead hit the corner of the table, the sharp pain made countless golden stars explode in front of her eyes, and her nose was filled with the smell of rust - the corner of her mouth was broken at some point, and blood was dripping down her jaw onto the carpet, staining it with a dark red pattern.
She curled up on the cold floor like a trapped wounded animal. Her throat felt like it was on fire, and every breath she took was accompanied by a small cough that made her chest hurt.
My fingers unconsciously scratched the nap of the carpet, but I couldn't feel anything. It was as if my soul had been taken away from me. Only an empty shell was left, struggling to survive in this empty room.
The thermometer on the bedside table showed 39.5 degrees Celsius, and the red scale was like a glaring warning line.
I took round after round of antipyretics, but they couldn't suppress the burning sensation in my body.
Her consciousness jumped back and forth between lucidity and chaos. One moment she saw her father's distorted face swaying before her eyes, screaming "She deserves to die";
After a while, Qi Zhifang's gentle smile appeared again, and he held her hand and strolled in the sun-filled garden.
"Why... why is it like this..." She murmured to herself, her voice so hoarse that it was almost indistinguishable from a human voice. Her nails dug deep into her palms, trying to use the pain to keep herself awake, but the thoughts in her mind became more and more confused.
The shameless woman described by my father and the kind and gentle Aunt Qi in my memory could never be the same person.
The sky outside the window was terribly gloomy, and the heavy clouds seemed to be crushing the entire world.
The strong wind howled and hit the windows, making a whimpering sound, as if it was also weeping for the truth of this chaos.
Yan Wanqing wrapped herself tightly in the quilt, but still couldn't stop trembling. The sound of her teeth chattering was particularly clear in the silent room.
She forced herself to think, but every thought was like a tangled mess, the more she tried to sort it out, the more confused it became.
If what my father said was true, then Qi Ruixiang's investigation was a farce and a slander against the Qi family;
But if the scenes in the dream are the truth, how should the Yan family deal with it?
Have I been helping my father cover up his crimes all these years?
Tears flowed uncontrollably again, soaking the pillowcase.
She recalled the complicated look in Qi Ruixiang's eyes when he looked at her, and suddenly felt that there might not only be hatred in that look, but also deep pain and confusion.
As Qi Zhifang's biological son, how would he deal with it if he knew the truth behind these contradictions?
"What should I do..." She curled up into a ball with her head in her hands, and her collapsed sobs echoed in the empty room.
The world that was once thought to be indestructible collapsed at this moment, revealing the terrifying abyss underneath.
And she stood on the edge of the abyss, caught in a dilemma, not knowing where to go.
Time passed minute by minute, but Yan Wanqing seemed to be trapped in eternal pain and confusion.
The high fever made her body weaker, but the torment in her heart was more painful than any illness.
Yan Wanqing pressed her burning forehead against the cold marble floor tiles, and a broken moan escaped from her throat. The antipyretic medicine surged in her stomach, turning into sticky cold sweat that soaked her silk pajamas and dragged her into a deeper chaos.
The thunder outside the window overlapped with the sound of the gavel in my memory. The dream was like torn rice paper, piecing together a distorted picture in my consciousness.
She saw her six-year-old self standing on tiptoe to reach the glass sugar jar on the cupboard. Qi Zhifang hurried over in a light blue cheongsam, the jasmine hair on her temples wet with morning dew.
"Be careful not to cut your fingers." A gentle palm wrapped around her trembling little hand, and mint-scented hand cream rubbed on her wrist.
But the scene suddenly changed, and Yan Taifeng's drunken breath hit her face, pulling Qi Zhifang's hair and pressing her on the dining table. The sound of porcelain bowls breaking mixed with the woman's suppressed crying...