CHAPTER 109 — The Last Visit
The rain had finally stopped, but the world outside the Mu estate felt strangely hollow, as if the storm had taken something with it. The clouds hung heavy and gray over the city, casting the streets in a muted gloom. The kind of day where endings feel final.
Shi Yunxi stood at the gates of the old Shi residence—her childhood home, her prison, her battlefield. The building loomed like a shadow of the past, its walls stained with years of arrogance, deceit, and cruelty. Once, it had been a symbol of unmatched prestige. Now, it was crumbling—literally and figuratively.
The Shi name had fallen.
Their wealth evaporated.
Their reputation shattered.
Their power stripped clean.
Everything they used to lord over her was gone.
And yet, Yunxi wasn't here to see the ruins.
She was here for closure.
Because to heal, she needed to face the ghosts that made her.
"Are you sure you want to go in alone?" Mu Lingchen asked quietly beside her. Rui clung to his hand, still recovering from nightmares he wouldn't speak about but clearly remembered.
Yunxi nodded. "This is something I need to finish myself."
He searched her eyes, wanting to argue, wanting to protect her from the emotional wounds waiting inside—but he also knew her. He knew her strength, and he knew the pain she carried. So instead of stopping her, he squeezed her shoulder gently.
"We'll wait right here," he said.
Yunxi turned, bending down to kiss Rui's forehead. "Be good for Daddy."
Rui nodded bravely, though he glanced anxiously at the house. He didn't know the details, but even at three years old, he sensed that this place was where Mommy's sadness lived.
With a final breath, Yunxi stepped through the rusted gates and walked up the worn path. The front door was cracked open, as if the house itself had finally stopped pretending it was strong.
Inside, the air was stale, heavy with dust and the faint scent of expensive perfume—one she recognized instantly. Her mother's.
Shi Meirong.
The woman who gave birth to her but never mothered her.
The woman who valued power more than family.
The woman whose silence had been more painful than Roulan's rage.
Yunxi walked through the dim foyer, her footsteps echoing. Every photo frame had been removed from the walls, leaving pale rectangles behind—ghost outlines of a family portrait that had never included her willingly.
She found them in the sitting room.
Shi Meirong sat stiffly on the couch, back straight, hands folded, face hollow. Her eyes flicked up when she saw Yunxi, widening with a mixture of shame and desperate hope.
"Yunxi…" she whispered.
Yunxi didn't answer immediately. She stepped into the room, expression unreadable, arms folded lightly as if shielding herself.
On the opposite side of the room, Shi Zhenai—the once-untouchable patriarch—sat hunched over, hair disheveled, skin pale and loose around his cheeks. His eyes were wild, sunken, like a man who had spent nights in sleepless paranoia.
The collapse of the Shi family had destroyed them in ways money never could.
"Why are you here?" Shi Zhenai muttered without looking up. "Come to gloat? To trample us while we're down?"
Yunxi stared at him, expression calm and cold. "No. I don't need to trample you. You already did that yourselves."
He flinched.
Shi Meirong rose slowly, wringing her hands. "Yunxi… your sister… Roulan… she—"
"She's in a psychiatric facility," Yunxi said flatly. "A danger to herself and everyone else."
Meirong's lip trembled. "They said she keeps screaming the children are hers—"
Yunxi cut her off sharply. "They were never hers."
Silence followed, heavy and suffocating.
Then Shi Zhenai let out a bitter laugh. "So what now? You finally won? You took everything? You…"
Yunxi's voice dropped, steady and sharp. "You took my childhood. You stole my safety. You let Roulan torment me for years. You ignored every cry for help. And when I finally escaped, you tried to destroy me again."
Her hands curled into fists.
"But I never wanted revenge. I wanted freedom."
Shi Zhenai sneered. "Freedom? From your own family?"
"You were never a family," Yunxi said. "You were a cage."
Meirong gasped softly, tears spilling down her cheeks. "Yunxi… we made mistakes. But you were still our daughter—"
"No," Yunxi snapped. "I was your tool. Your bargaining piece. Your pawn."
The older woman sobbed quietly into her hands.
Shi Zhenai scowled. "You're ungrateful. Everything we gave you—"
"What did you give me?" Yunxi interrupted. "Bruises? Isolation? A childhood wrapped in fear? A sister who assaulted me? A father who pretended I didn't exist unless it benefited him?"
Zhenai's jaw clenched, but he had no defense.
Yunxi inhaled deeply, then slowly exhaled.
"I came here for one reason."
She stepped closer, eyes steady and unwavering.
"To tell you that from this moment forward, I am no longer Shi Yunxi."
Meirong froze, breath hitching. "What… what do you mean?"
"I have cut ties with the Shi family," Yunxi said. "Legally. Publicly. Permanently."
Her words struck like thunder.
"I will never carry your name again. You have no claim over me. You have no right to my children. You have no connection to my life."
Meirong's knees buckled, and she collapsed onto the couch, sobbing uncontrollably.
Shi Zhenai stared at her with disbelief, anger, and—deep beneath it all—fear.
"You… you can't just erase us."
"I already did," Yunxi said quietly. "You ended your connection to me years ago. I'm simply acknowledging it now."
She turned toward the door.
"Goodbye."
Meirong reached out weakly. "Yunxi! Please—please don't leave us like this—!"
Yunxi stopped.
But she didn't turn around.
"You left me first."
Then she walked out.
Step by step, through the hallway of shattered illusions. Out the door. Down the path of memories that no longer held power.
And when she finally stepped outside—
Rui ran to her with open arms.
"Mommy!"
She caught him instantly, hugging him tight, holding on as if she could protect him from every shadow she'd ever known.
Lingchen watched her with soft, steady eyes.
"It's done?" he asked.
Yunxi nodded, voice faint but firm. "It's done."
"Then let's go home," he said.
She took his hand.
And for the first time in her life, walking away didn't hurt.
It felt like freedom.