SFL Chapter 70

The two Queendom were finally unified. Moreover, after the Monarch of Feng Queendom married in, he gave birth to the legitimate eldest daughter, providing Feng Queendom with a rightful heir. This was truly a double blessing for the entire queendom.

Not to mention the Long Queendom’s royal family, now prisoners, inside the palace, Mo Ziqing, having just given birth, entered the postpartum recovery period.

After experiencing the pain of childbirth firsthand, Mo Ziqing finally understood the psychological resistance that women in the modern world have toward giving birth.

If one’s partner is considerate, it’s bearable. If not, then during the postpartum period, a mother can feel both physically and emotionally cold. Those with a more sensitive disposition could easily fall into distress.

Even someone like Mo Ziqing, a man from this matriarchal world who was already used to independence, longed for more tenderness and care from Feng Yuan after giving birth. It was easy to imagine just how emotionally fragile a person could be after childbirth.

Mo Ziqing wanted to be strong, but his heart was too soft to manage it. Feng Yuan’s most direct impression was that Mo Ziqing’s attitude toward her had become unpredictable—sometimes warm, sometimes distant—which gradually wore down her patience.

“Yuan, do I look bad now?” Mo Ziqing asked Feng Yuan.

“No, to me, you are still naturally beautiful,” Feng Yuan replied with a smile. She viewed Mo Ziqing through a deep filter of admiration and didn’t think there was anything unattractive about him.

“That’s true. If I weren’t naturally beautiful, how could I have endured these eleven months?” Mo Ziqing agreed upon hearing her words.

Instead of immediately restoring his pre-pregnancy appearance, he turned his gaze toward the small, red bundle wrapped in a swaddle.

Aside from looking a bit like a dusty little mouse at first, the little one’s skin grew fairer by the day. This made the beauty-loving Mo Ziqing proudly declare, “As expected of a child I gave birth to.”

Feng Yuan took the opportunity to say, “How about we give her a few younger brothers and sisters? Look at how lively Ning’er’s residence is now.”

Hearing this, Mo Ziqing’s eye couldn’t help but twitch.

Lively was an understatement. With Feng Yuning’s children being born one after another, the entire Wangye residence was constantly filled with the sound of crying babies and the thick scent of milk.

As their biological mother, Feng Yuning was always busy running around for her children, even more exhausted than the pregnant husbands going through postpartum recovery.

Seeing Feng Yuning like this, Feng Yuan really couldn’t understand her. If a man was good-looking, couldn’t you just admire him from afar? Why insist on bringing them all into the household, only to end up with even more chaos in the future?

That was why Feng Yuan felt she had been far more farsighted. From the very beginning, she never intended to take in too many men. Now, even with a child, as the queen, she was still busy with state affairs but had far more time than Feng Yuning to spend with Mo Ziqing and their child.

Feng Yuning never strayed from her chosen path despite Mo Ziqing keeping his distance. Seeing how exhausted she was now, both Feng Yuan and Mo Ziqing could only sigh whenever they talked about her.

And so, in the stark contrast between the number of men in Feng Yuan’s and Feng Yuning’s lives, Mo Ziqing spent his entire life by Feng Yuan’s side.

Compared to the calm and steady life of Feng Yuan and Mo Ziqing in the palace, Wangye residence under Feng Yuning was far more chaotic.

At first, Feng Yuning was able to maintain balance in her household. However, as her various husbands began having children of their own—each with distinct personalities and varying talents—differences started to emerge. Even Feng Yuning herself, as their mother, showed favoritism toward certain children. Naturally, the fathers of the less favored ones began to feel resentment.

No one knew exactly when the conflicts in Feng Yuning’s household began, but over the years, their once harmonious relationships deteriorated into open hostility. In the end, it escalated to the point of life-and-death struggles.

As the wife to many men and the mother to many children, Feng Yuning was constantly caught in the middle whenever conflicts arose. Any slight bias in her actions would invite accusations and blame from both the men and their children.

Some outsiders, unable to bear witnessing the turmoil, advised Feng Yuning to assert her authority and remind everyone who the true master of the household was. But she was too soft-hearted to be strict with her husbands, unable to act decisively.

In the original tale, the same Wangye who once coldly executed her own sister, Feng Yuan, over a mere threat, could not bring herself to harm even a single finger of her beloved husbands. It was clear—family held less weight than beauty in her heart. To Feng Yuning, nothing mattered more than her men.

Because of her devotion to them, Feng Yuning remained unmarried throughout her life. Even on his deathbed, Feng Jun never received her consent to wed. As he looked at Feng Yuning in his final moments, he finally admitted to himself that this Wangye before him was no longer the obedient, gentle daughter he once knew.

Still, at least she had ensured the continuation of many bloodlines. With that thought, Feng Jun said nothing more. He simply closed his eyes and passed away in silence.

Feng Yuning, perhaps sensing something, gradually became more mature and steady. Though her household remained a mess, she herself had grown significantly.

Meanwhile, after Feng Yuan passed the throne to her legitimate eldest daughter, her health began to decline. On her deathbed, she held Mo Ziqing’s hand—still as youthful as in their younger years—and said,

“Ziqing, do you know? When I was young, I had a dream.”

“In the dream, I married ‘you’ and left the entire harem empty for your sake. But ‘you’ still refused to be grateful, feeling that the vast imperial palace was nothing more than a suffocating cage. Yet later, ‘you’ willingly stepped into that cage once more—for Ning’er. That was when I realized the real cage was not the palace—it was me.”

“But what’s strange is that the ‘you’ in my dream had neither wisdom nor talent, only a noble birth. What was it that I liked about him? Just like how I never understood Ning’er—what was it about her that could make a royal consort bow so willingly? What charm did she possess that could bring an entire powerful nation to ruin?”

“Ziqing, can you tell me?” Feng Yuan’s voice was gentle.

“It’s truly strange. The same face, the same identity, and yet, one could clearly tell they were two completely different people.”

“And my Ziqing is so unique.” Not the ‘Mo Ziqing’ from her dream, who was no different from the countless courtiers in Feng Yuning’s chaotic household, but the one before her—blessed by time, still strikingly handsome even now.

“Then, what is it that Your Majesty wishes to know?” Mo Ziqing asked calmly, unhurried.

“I want to know your origins, Ziqing. I want to know what kind of place could nurture someone as extraordinary as you,” Feng Yuan murmured, seeking answers in her final moments.

Mo Ziqing smiled. “Since Your Majesty is curious, why not come with me and see for yourself?”

“Is that possible? I… I still want to stay with you. Decades together feel far too short…” Feng Yuan gazed at Mo Ziqing, memories surfacing of their first meeting. She admitted that her initial infatuation was drawn purely by his beauty—just as in her dream, where she had coveted the ‘Mo Ziqing’ of that illusion.

But unlike the dream’s version, this Mo Ziqing had walked by her side through a lifetime, becoming an inseparable part of her existence.

“Sleep now. When you wake up, we will truly be together,” Mo Ziqing whispered. His voice was gentle, lulling Feng Yuan into peaceful slumber. Slowly, she closed her eyes.

Not long after, the entire palace was draped in mourning white.

Beyond the sight of mortals, Mo Ziqing’s spirit stood high above. In his hands, an immense golden light of accumulated merit shimmered. He divided it into several parts, bestowing it upon the heavens, Feng Yuan, and their children.

Finally, he took one last look at his little ones, reluctant to part, before departing.

—

At Wangye residence, news of the Queen and consort passing together struck like a thunderbolt. Feng Yuning could hardly believe it—her sister and brother-in-law, companions for decades, were gone.

With no elders above her and the new Queen belonging to the younger generation, Feng Yuning realized that there was no one left for her to lean on or act spoiled with.

It was only after Feng Yuan’s passing that she truly understood just how much she had depended on her elder sister.

Feng Yuan had been a true daughter of Feng Queendom, embodying a strong, independent spirit. If Feng Yuning had been the same type of woman, she might have found Feng Yuan’s dominance suffocating. But she wasn’t—her heart was even softer than that of many men in their matriarchal society. Feng Yuan’s strength had always been something she admired.

Yet now, the great mountain she had leaned on had vanished, along with the light that had illuminated her heart. An emptiness settled within her, leaving her listless for a long time.

Before she could fully recover from her grief, disaster struck her household. One of her husbands passed away. Then another. Familiar faces kept disappearing, one by one, until Feng Yuning—who was never emotionally resilient to begin with—was on the verge of collapse.

She had always embraced the beauty of the world, yet she couldn’t bear tragedy unfolding before her own eyes.

And because of her love for many, the pain she endured was multiplied. Others might experience the sorrow of parting a few times in life, but she had to suffer it dozens of times over. Watching the men she loved leave her one after another, she wished it had been her instead.

But fate was unyielding. Even after the last of her husbands passed, her own body remained strong. It was only then that she heard a name—one that felt both unfamiliar and familiar at the same time.

“Did you hear? That former prince of the Long Queendom passed away not long ago.”

“Wasn’t he a vegetarian? How did he pass away so early?” Feng Yuning murmured in surprise.

After Feng Queendom annexed the Long Queendom, she had only heard that the prince had become a monk. Between them lay the ruins of a fallen nation, a shattered homeland. The years passed, and they had no further connection. She never imagined that the next time she heard news of him, he would already be gone from this world.

And yet, for some reason, upon hearing of his death, something stirred within her. A deep, unshakable feeling told her that it was finally her turn. Her time in this world had come to an end.

With that thought, Feng Yuning smiled. Alone in the vast, empty halls of Wangye residence, she quietly passed away.

—

In another time and space, a girl nudged her deskmate. “Yuning, wake up. The teacher’s about to come in.”

She turned to face her, only to see Feng Yuning with her eyes closed, tears streaming down her face.

Startled, the girl shook her. “Yuning, what’s wrong?”

Feng Yuning slowly opened her eyes—eyes that held the weight of lifetimes, as if they had seen far too much. The strange dissonance of that gaze unsettled her deskmate.

“I think I had a dream,” Feng Yuning said, her voice trembling. “At the start, it was so, so sweet. In the middle, there were some hardships, but they were bearable. But toward the end… it turned bitter. So bitter that I wanted to wake up, to end it quickly, but no matter what, I just couldn’t.”

Tears continued to fall as she whispered, “Thank you for waking me up.”

Her deskmate let out a relieved sigh and comforted her, “Well, at least it was just a dream. Don’t think too much about it, okay?”

“Yes… at least it was just a dream…”

But why, even after waking up, did she remember every detail so clearly instead of forgetting it like most dreams?

Feng Yuning lifted her gaze toward the sunlight streaming through the window. The brightness stung her eyes, causing her tears to flow even more, yet she stubbornly kept them open.

In that dream, she had made so many mistakes, lost so many people. By the time she finally grew and understood, time had already moved forward, never allowing her a chance to go back.

Everyone loves beautiful things, but that doesn’t mean they should claim them for themselves. Unfortunately, by the time she realized this, those she cherished were long gone, leaving her alone to drown in regret.

She thought to herself—she would never love again.

In her past life, she had already given everything she had.

In this lifetime, she wished only to walk alone.[mfn]TL: Hello! It’s been a long time! I apologize for updating just now. I was kinda busy because of my thesis and our exams. Anyways, I’m back again and look forward for another arc! See you on the next update![/mfn]