Madame Ying had not been wrong. Although the He Family had moved away, He Chunhua had still arranged for someone to maintain the grave properly and come twice a year to sweep it and make offerings.

Yet the stele bore only Lu Xiaoyun’s name. There was no mention of who had erected it, nor any other information.

He Lingchuan let out a soft sigh and placed the flowers and fruit he had brought before the grave.

He Lingchuan could not help but wonder just what sort of feelings He Chunhua truly held for Lu Xiaoyun. She had been dead for so many years, yet while he lived in Heishui City, he had still insisted on coming to pay respects twice every year, regardless of Madame Ying’s objections.

And yet, when it came to the son Lu Xiaoyun had sacrificed her life to give birth to, He Chunhua had been willing to offer him up in a rite of divine recompense.

He was still lost in thought when a voice suddenly called from behind...