Chapter 30

Song Yangyao's POV:

Mother's face flushed an ugly puce as Father's words hit home with the precision of a heat-seeking missile.

"How dare you?" She seethed, every word trembling with the effort of containing her towering fury. "After all these years of standing idly by as I singlehandedly attempted to mold those...those wretched girls into presentable members of our esteemed lineage? Now you have the unmitigated gall to lay those failures at my feet, Song Bo?"

A ringing silence fell over the parlor as the weight of the accusation hung heavy between them. Even I found myself instinctively shrinking back, suddenly wishing I hadn't gleefully stoked the flames of discord quite so vehemently earlier.

But Father seemed to hardly even register Mother's histrionics, simply regarding her with that same inscrutable mask of unflinching poise as he had for decades untold. Only this time, there was an undeniable current of steel undergirding his implacable calm.

"Surely you don't expect me to sit mutely any longer as this deeply dysfunctional dynamic plays out to its inevitable, tragic conclusion?" His tone remained maddeningly even, almost gentle despite the words themselves carrying an unmistakable rebuke. "Yanyan may be...unpolished in certain aspects of her conduct, but the girl's character is one of remarkable resilience and fortitude. Qualities I'm quite certain she hadn't the faintest chance of developing under the unrelentingly dismissive eye you've turned towards her from birth."

Mother opened her mouth - whether to rage or rebut, I couldn't tell. But the steely look Father leveled in her direction stole the words before they could be given voice.

"We are her parents," he intoned, each word feeling like a lead weight dropping into the pit of my churning stomach. "Yet when I look back with clear eyes, I can scarcely locate even a single instance where we endeavored to nurture her hopes and dreams as one should for their beloved child. Only hollow criticisms, degradations and unrealistic expectations of conforming to some misguided, archaic notion of what a 'presentable' young woman should embody."

A tremor ran through me as those ancient eyes settled momentarily on my face, seeming to strip away every layer of artifice and pretense I'd so carefully constructed over the years as Yanyan's sycophantic tormentor. I found myself unable to meet that piercing stare, dropping my gaze with sudden shame heating my cheeks.

"Our daughter had the whole world to offer with her fierce spirit and uncompromising convictions," Father continued in that same mild, painfully reasonable tone. "Yet we've spent the last decade relentlessly trying to extinguish that fire rather than channeling it with love and compassionate guidance. Hardly the actions of responsible caregivers, I'm quite afraid."

A heavy silence cloaked the parlor as the weight of his words penetrated the stuffy air like fog rolling across a still morning meadow. To my shock, I realized Mother had fallen deathly still - rooted to the spot with an inscrutable expression warring across her surgically sculpted features.

Part of me expected yet another blustering eruption of outraged denial and deflection to come spewing forth like shrapnel. The usual barrage of well-worn justifications about keeping up appearances and respecting the long-standing traditions of our hallowed dynasty, no matter how misguided or antiquated they might ring to modern ears.

But instead...an eerie stillness lingered, utterly devoid of even the faintest whisper of contention. Somewhere deep in the haunted mask of her eyes, I caught the unmistakable flicker of deep, soul-searching retrospection finally managing to pierce through that meticulously cultivated veneer of feigned aristocratic aloofness.

For the first time in my entire life, Chen Xinyi looked...humbled. Even regretful, though the muted remorse was still struggling to fully take shape behind her rigidly established bravado.

In that shockingly vulnerable lull, Father seemed to sense the shifting undercurrents and wisely abstained from striking any further verbal blows. Instead, he simply straightened to his full, commanding height with an air of finality settling around his broad shoulders like a cloak.

"I've taken the liberty of securing appropriate living arrangements for Yanyan where she might finally flourish unencumbered," he murmured, voice taking on an unconsciously tender timbre as he spoke of his youngest child. "She's to remain enrolled at the academy, of course. But any...further objections or interference from us in her daily life would only risk compounding the damage already inflicted, I fear."

He paused, letting those words and the undeniable subtext behind them land with the weight of divine benediction. When neither of us spoke to counter him, Father simply nodded once and turned on his heel.

"I trust I've made the rationale behind my decision unmistakably clear," he called over his shoulder as he strode from the parlor, leaving a vacuum of stunned silence in his wake. "Any further...substantive objections on the matter would be most unwise from this point forward."

And with that subtle yet utterly unequivocal warning, the encounter was over as abruptly as it had begun. I was left gaping dumbly in the aftermath, unsure whether to feel vindicated or chastened by the proceedings. When I chanced a sidelong glance at Mother, her expression was distant, lost in the lingering haze of introspection long overdue. 

Suddenly feeling utterly leaden and drained down to my core, I slipped from the room without a backward glance. Only one question echoed through my addled thoughts.

If Father felt so compelled to offer Yanyan her freedom from this toxically dysfunctional household, then...what did that say about my own entrenched place within its crumbling walls?

For once, I couldn't even muster the faintest whisper of resentful loathing for my wretched sister's unfathomable fortune. Too numb, too raw from having those layers of ugliness and denial stripped back to leave the raw, festering wounds of generational trauma exposed for the first time. 

As I retreated to my suite, the sick, sinking feeling followed - that tonight would be just another link in the long, clanking chain of empty recriminations and bitter jealousy poisoning me a little more from the inside with each passing day. With Yanyan's unchecked spirit now loosed fully upon the world, I found myself dreading where her unfettered defiance would lead things next.

And for the first time in my life...I realized there was nothing I could do to stop the oncoming storm from breaking over this fractured dynasty like a tidal wave obliterating everything in its path.

Except perhaps...make my own peace with the onrushing deluge before it dragged what little remained of my sanity into the swirling, uprious depths.