6. The silence left by his absence

NARRATE XIAO MAO.

Four months. That was the time that passed from that night when my father, with a half-smile, told me about his edict sealed by the emperor, until the moment my whole world stopped. Four months in which, despite the latent threat of that false fiancé, I felt like nothing could touch us while he was alive. I was wrong.

That morning, the sun rose as usual, but nothing in me was the same again.

The news arrived with the brutality of a badly kept sword: my father, leader of the Xiao clan, had been found dead in his room. The doctors cited natural causes, a heart that had succumbed to age and the weight of leadership... but something in their faces said that even they weren't entirely convinced. The maids hadn't heard anything strange. No one had entered or left his room. Everything seemed calm. Too calm.

Only Li, with his cold, grim gaze, remained completely silent. I knew something wasn't right. I saw it in his posture, in the way his eyes sharpened whenever the supposed fiancé spoke in a condescending tone. But he said nothing. Not at that moment.

The funeral was a solemn moment, just as my father deserved. We held it three days after his passing. The entire village gathered, dressed in mourning robes, bringing offerings of incense, flowers, and prayers. The elders wept silently, while the children, confused, asked why everyone was so sad. My heart ached, but my tears barely came. I stood tall, as he taught me, but inside I felt devastated.

Minor clan leaders, the council group, and even Imperial officials were present. But it was the emperor's arrival that made the air thick. He appeared surrounded by his retinue, his face serious and his stride measured. He placed a personal offering on the altar and gave me a look I couldn't quite interpret: a mixture of regret, respect... and something else, something profound.

The prayers stretched into the evening. The sky, covered with gray clouds, seemed to weep with me as the urn was placed in the family shrine. Every word the monks spoke tasted bitter. Every chant tore at me a little more.

That night, locked in my room, I didn't feel like seeing anyone. I just let Li in.

He crossed the threshold silently, closed the door behind him, and sat down beside me without saying a word. For a long moment, we simply shared the silence. That same silence that now filled the halls of the house, the same one that had settled in my chest since I lost him.

—I don't know how to continue, — I murmured in a muffled voice, my eyes still moist. I looked at the floor as if I could find there the answers my father used to give me with just a glance.

Li looked down, his hands clasped together. I noticed a slight tremor in his fingers. It was the first time I'd seen him vulnerable. Not physically, but in his soul.

—He left in peace, Xiao Mei, — he said finally. —With the certainty that you had grown strong and compassionate. That you could continue.

I didn't ask how he knew. Maybe he didn't want to know. Maybe, deep down, he already suspected it. There was something about him... something that made him speak of death with a strange familiarity, as if he'd encountered it more than once.

I leaned into him. My arms wound around his neck and I held on as if it could keep the world from completely falling apart. He surrounded me carefully, with a warmth he'd never shown so clearly. For an instant, we weren't Li the outsider and I the clan heiress. We were just two lost souls searching for comfort.

—You promised me, remember? — I whispered against her shoulder. —You said you'd take care of me.

—And I will, — he replied without hesitation. —Even if the whole world turns against me.

His voice was like armor protecting me from the pain. It allowed me to breathe. It made me feel safe, if only for a moment.

The next day, I received confirmation of my audience with the emperor. A private meeting to discuss the fate of the Xiao clan. I didn't sleep that night. My father's absence weighed more heavily than any silk blanket.

But at least as long as Li was around, I could still breathe. I could still be strong.