Chapter 69
The palace was silent that night, but within its grand walls, sorrow spread like wildfire.
Ping sat in her chamber, her body trembling as she clutched her stomach, now empty. The pain was unbearable—not just the physical ache, but the hollow, aching void that swallowed her whole. Tears streamed down her face, her sobs muffled against her trembling hands.
The child was gone.
Her child.
Their child.
Mei sat beside her, whispering words of comfort, but nothing could soothe Ping's shattered heart. The physician had tried everything, but it had been too late. The stress, the exhaustion, everything had taken its toll, and now the life she had carried was no more.
The doors slammed open.
Ling stood there, his eyes dark with pain, his jaw clenched so tightly it seemed like he was trying to hold back his own grief. He stepped inside slowly, his gaze falling on Ping, who wouldn't look at him.
For a long moment, there was nothing but silence.
Then Ping whispered, her voice barely above a breath, "It's your fault."
Ling froze. His fists tightened, his entire body stiffening. "What?"
She turned her tear-streaked face to him, eyes filled with unbearable pain. "You brought me stress. You made me cry. You let this happen!"
The words cut him like a blade, and something inside him cracked.
"My fault?" His voice was dangerously low, filled with disbelief and anger. "You were the one who left the palace! You put yourself in danger! You refused to rest even when you knew you were carrying our child!"
Ping let out a choked sob, shaking her head. "If you never agreed to marry that woman, none of this would have happened! I wouldn't have left! I wouldn't have—" Her voice broke, her entire body trembling. "Our baby would still be alive..."
Ling's heart shattered at the sight of her. At the raw devastation in her eyes. But he was drowning in his own grief, his own guilt. He had searched for her, protected her, done everything in his power—but he still couldn't save the one thing they both wanted.
His hands curled into fists. "Do you think I don't feel the same pain? Do you think I don't blame myself?!" His voice cracked, his emotions finally breaking through. "I wanted that child too, Ping!"
She turned away from him, covering her face as sobs wracked her body.
Ling exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He wanted to comfort her, to hold her, to tell her they would get through this together. But right now, she didn't want him. She didn't want his touch, his words, his presence.
And that realization hurt more than anything.
Without another word, Ling turned and left the chamber, the sound of the heavy doors closing behind him echoing through the empty halls.
That night, Ping cried until she had no more tears left.
And Ling sat alone in the dark, unable to sleep, the weight of their loss pressing down on him like an unbearable curse.