The falling beauty - Chapter 22

No longer calling him “husband” but “Master Ling,” just as she had when she first entered the mansion, Mo Jin’er refused to play along anymore.

The wind was eerily silent as Ling’an Che dismounted and entered the carriage. The woman next to him tried to intervene but was swiftly thrown aside by a wave of his internal energy.

Mo Jin’er sat inside the carriage, her demeanor calm. She looked up at Ling’an Che, who was filled with anger. The once spacious carriage now felt cramped. His dark eyes were filled with fury, yet his voice remained gentle, almost pleading.

“Jin’er, do you really want to deny your child a father?”

His voice was husky, filled with a hint of desperation. Was she truly indifferent to him?

She had been so clingy before, calling him “husband” with affection and love. But now, it seemed she had been planning to leave all along.

“Master Ling, do you want to see me dead?” She said softly, her expression remaining unperturbed. Despite the shock of his apparent vulnerability, she felt no satisfaction—only a deep sense of calm and impatience.

She was so close to leaving, to escaping this city and having no regrets.

He looked into her eyes, trying to find even a trace of hesitation, but she sat there, soft and gentle, speaking the most resolute words. She even took out a knife from her sleeve, pressing it against her neck, with a smile on her beautiful, pale face.

“You should know that since I fell with you off the cliff, I found life meaningless. If you don’t want to see me end up in a double tragedy, let me go.”

Previously, she wouldn’t have dared to threaten him. Any defiance would have been met with severe punishment. He had countless ways to make her suffer. But now, how could he bear to hurt her?

She had tested his limits bit by bit and was sure that he had become excessively indulgent with her. He might even truly care for her.

So even if he did not let her go, making a fuss might eventually lead to a compromise.

“Where do you want to go?” He asked quietly.

She thought for a moment, “Anywhere, as long as it’s not with you.”

She really did want to go to Jiangnan.

“Mo Jin’er, you truly have no heart,” Ling’an Che suddenly smiled, stepping back. If she wanted to leave, he would let her.

She slowly lowered the knife. Did she have no heart? She just didn’t want to be his caged bird. She just wanted freedom. She simply did not love him.

And his affection and pampering came too late.

Even when she was initially enchanted by him, if he had treated her well, perhaps she would not have ended her feelings so decisively.

She was not sad or heartbroken—just calm and satisfied as she prepared to leave. She wanted a fresh start, to leave behind the naive love she once had.

Ling’an Che had already dismounted and stood outside. His deputy, seeing that he was truly letting her go, called out quietly, “General…”

“Let her go.”

Ling’an Che’s voice was calm, deep, and husky.

Everyone made way, and the woman with the knife at her neck was released. She stared in disbelief, unable to understand why he really let her go.

She climbed back into the carriage, and the woman beside her asked, “What did you say to him? He really let you go…”

The woman found it hard to believe. The Ling’an Che she had heard of was as fearsome as the King of Hell, arrogant and hard to deal with. Such a grand display was supposed to involve punishment, but he let her go so easily.

“Nothing much,” Mo Jin’er replied faintly, feeling suddenly tired. She had only hurt a proud man’s heart.

The woman helped her leave safely, fulfilling their agreement.

Mo Jin’er boarded a boat heading to Jiangnan. Ling’an Che kept his word and truly let her go.

With enough silver notes to provide for her child and herself, she bought a house in Jiangnan and hired two maids, a cook, and a guard.

Ling’an Che had previously given her a shop, and in her free time, she learned how to manage it. She opened a small store in the area, running a modest business that didn’t make much profit but kept her occupied and interacting with people.

Her life was peaceful and beautiful. She frequently thought of Ling’an Che. With so many women wanting to marry him, including the daughters of high-ranking officials, he would likely forget her soon.

In Jiangnan, she encountered few difficulties. Initially, there were some who tried to extort her, seeing her as an easy target. However, they quickly apologized and compensated her the next day.

She quietly continued her life, already five or six months pregnant. Her due date was expected in the autumn.

The change in her body due to pregnancy meant she no longer needed the seductive poison. Time passed quickly, and in August of the autumn, she suddenly felt labor pains. Her water broke, and she went into labor. Her maids quickly summoned a midwife and took care of her.

The pain was excruciating, tearing through her, and her vision was blurred with tears.

She heard a maid outside exclaiming, “Who are you? How did you get in?”

Then the maid fell silent as footsteps approached. Mo Jin’er heard Su Qinqin’s anxious yet gentle voice, “Jin’er, relax, take a deep breath, push…”

Finally, the sound of a baby’s cry filled the room, and Mo Jin’er felt utterly exhausted.

As she was about to drift off to sleep, Su Qinqin urged her to stay awake. She wiped the sweat from her face and gently brushed away her tears. Mo Jin’er then saw a familiar figure: a tall, handsome man with a cold aura, but now he awkwardly held the swaddled baby.

Ling’an Che…

Her eyes widened as she saw him holding their daughter, and her heart clenched in fear that he might take the child away.

“Have you chosen a name?” his low voice came from beside her bed. Mo Jin’er, her face pale, replied, “Mo Yun’er.”

Her child would belong to her alone.

He looked at the sleeping baby and responded, “Good.”

Then he left, and she sighed in relief.

Su Qinqin arranged for a steady stream of nutritious food for Mo Jin’er, knowing she needed to recover. Mo Jin’er was silent, aware that while Su Qinqin wasn’t poor, the cost of these supplies was high. She knew it was Ling’an Che’s doing.

Months later, news came that the northern tribes had invaded, and Ling’an Che went to war. Mo Jin’er took her child to a temple to pray for safety, even requesting a peace blessing for him.

Jiangnan was prosperous and peaceful, and the Great Qin Dynasty was thriving. None of this would be possible without the soldiers on the front lines. She sincerely hoped for their victory and the safety of each soldier, including Ling’an Che.

Even though she didn’t love him, she still wished for his safety.

After praying, she looked at the red talisman in her hand and smiled wryly. He was so capable, how could anything happen to him? Besides, they were no longer connected.

She expanded her business in Jiangnan, opening several new shops, all of which prospered. In her busiest shop, she was surprised to see visitors from prominent families, including Ling’s mother and steward.

She looked significantly aged, with gray hair and a weary appearance. “Jin’er, let’s talk.”

Mo Jin’er followed her to a private room, where she received news she could hardly believe.

“Jin’er, bring Yun’er back. She is the only bloodline of Che’er.”

She spoke of things Mo Jin’er couldn’t understand, and Yun’er, now over a year old, was adorable and lovable.

She held Yun’er and cried sorrowfully, her grief palpable.

The steward informed Mo Jin’er that Ling’an Che had died. Although the northern tribes had been defeated and their territories ceded, Ling’an Che was mortally wounded and died on the way back.

Mo Jin’er couldn’t believe it, her heart sinking. She forced a smile, “How could this be…”

He was so formidable; it seemed impossible for him to die so suddenly…

It had to be a lie.

Tears streamed down her face, and her breathing was shaky. She forced a smile, “Don’t you remember? We survived falling off a cliff…”

As she spoke, tears flowed freely, and she came to accept the painful truth. His mother’s sorrowful appearance confirmed it—there was no way they would lie about such a thing.

Mo Jin’er was calm, a deathly calm, as she took her child and returned to the capital with Ling’s mother. The journey was long, and Ling’an Che had already been buried before they arrived. She didn’t even get to see him one last time.

Her head ached as she saw his spirited figure in her hazy recollections.