The weight of the truth

Wang Shi sat alone in the monastery's quiet courtyard, his back against a cold stone pillar. The night stretched endlessly above him, the stars distant and indifferent.

His mother's death… not an accident.

The words repeated in his mind like a curse.

For years, he had believed what they told him—that the Empress had died due to an unforeseen illness. It had been a bitter truth, but one he had forced himself to accept. And yet, Elder Mu's words had unraveled everything.

His hands curled into fists. If it wasn't an accident, then someone had been behind it. Someone had wanted her gone.

Who?

His mind whispered countless possibilities, but no answer brought clarity. Only rage. Only grief.

The cold wind bit at his skin, but he barely felt it. His thoughts twisted between doubt and certainty, between wanting to know the truth and fearing what it might mean.

Had everyone lied to him? Had he been nothing more than a blind fool all this time?

And what of Bai Lu?

She had saved him, knew his name, claimed they had met before. Did she know more than she had let on?

Wang Shi exhaled sharply, closing his eyes. His emotions stormed within him, but there was no one to give him answers.

So for now, he did the only thing he could.

He sat in silence, swallowed by the weight of a truth he wasn't ready to face.

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