After My Death, I Became a Heartless Madman - Chapter 43.1

Su Ziqing texted her, asking which was the true den of demons, the Song family or the Bai Mansion.

At that moment, Song Shizhou was sprawled on the sofa watching TV. It was morning, and the screen played a dull rerun of a variety show, with one cheery family-friendly line after another.

She hadn’t stayed at the Council, nor had she gone to Chen Ting’s place. Instead, she chose to return to this small apartment.

Chen Ting had prepared several well-located, spacious properties for her, all registered in her name as if it were a done deal. But Song Shizhou found moving troublesome, and larger spaces required too much furniture to fill. Besides, she led a simple life, so she had procrastinated on relocating.

Seeing that Song Shizhou hadn’t replied immediately, Su Ziqing bombarded her with messages, she was always impatient and impulsive. Picking up her phone, Song Shizhou replied helplessly,

Only something that makes you suffer to the point of death can be called a den of demons. Neither the Song family nor the Bai Mansion has brought me to that point. I’m still sitting here safe and sound, so neither qualifies.

She typed and deleted the words several times before finally sending a somewhat offhand retort:

“Miss Su, what nonsense are you spouting now?”

Su Ziqing replied with two laughing emojis.

“Isn’t this to celebrate your rebirth and successful escape from the Little White Dragon’s clutches?”

The year-end banquet Chen Ting had arranged was a trap aside from Council officials, only the Song family had been invited. Su Ziqing hadn’t attended, so she had no idea what had happened at the event or the things Song Shizhou had experienced in recent days.

Reading Su Ziqing’s messages, Song Shizhou felt as if a lifetime had passed.

“Remember that little blue dragon from before? I know the Little White Dragon is out of the question, but getting to know the little blue dragon wouldn’t be bad either. Shizhou, you’ve got Miss Bai to deal with, why not be generous and pass me her WeChat?”

“Afraid that’s not possible,” Song Shizhou replied.

“She’s not in the Inner City right now. What good would her contact do you?”

Su Ziqing responded instantly,

“So what if she’s not in the Inner City? It’s not like she’ll never come back!”

Song Shizhou chuckled as she typed,

“You’re right about that, she really won’t be coming back to the Inner City ever again.”

The memory of saying goodbye to Lan Chi still felt vivid. Neither of them had uttered the word farewell, but they both knew it might be a very, very long time before they saw each other again.

The verdict on her old case of betraying the Surveillance Institute had been handed down. Perhaps due to Madam Chen Ting’s intervention, she hadn’t been sentenced to death but was instead exiled from the Inner City to the distant District 21.

Lan Chi’s hair ribbon carried a faint, pleasant scent of wood ash. She apologized for her words from days prior and, noticing Song Shizhou’s reluctance to part, left her a way to stay in touch.

She said they would meet again.

Seeing how definitive Song Shizhou’s reply was, Su Ziqing didn’t press further. She sent a few cute stickers and steered the conversation back.

“Most people gain experience after surviving a trial. Shizhou, now that you’ve successfully escaped your mother and the Little White Dragon’s clutches, don’t you have anything you want to do?”

Song Shizhou paused.

Yes, of course I do.

After much deliberation, she hadn’t taken Chen Ting’s advice to assume the role of Vice Speaker.

She didn’t want the position.

She had no interest in this path and saw no need to force herself just because of Chen Ting’s goodwill. In her past life, she had already sacrificed too much for others. Chen Ting had offered to find her a more relaxed position, hoping Shizhou could stay close so she could make up for her guilt. Yet Song Shizhou still refused.

She didn’t like the feeling of being controlled.

Whether in her past life or now, she had done too many things against her will just to please others. She didn’t want to hurt Chen Ting, but she refused to harm herself just to avoid hurting Chen Ting either.

Fortunately, Chen Ting didn’t press further and even supported her decision, as if she would stand by Song Shizhou no matter what she chose.

There was, in fact, something Song Shizhou had always wanted to do.

The Song Group’s business included porcelain marketing, which had even been bundled with their hotels at one point. While other hotels offered basic toiletries and free drinks, theirs provided porcelain DIY sessions, VIP customers could craft their own pieces under the guidance of a master, with the finished works mailed to them after firing. Exceptionally fine pieces might even be displayed in the hotel.

Unfortunately, Song Fengyu had little interest in porcelain, so the Song Group’s ceramics division had recently shrunk. Ironically, Song Shizhou was fascinated by the very things Fengyu dismissed especially porcelain.

Perhaps because of her artistic background, she picked up techniques like wheel-throwing and painting quickly. The master she worked with had even praised her, impressed that someone so young could endure months in the kiln’s harsh conditions, often working late into the night.

Yet Madam Song paid little attention, looking down on such pursuits as frivolous, far inferior to Fengyu’s achievements.

Now that she was independent, she could finally do what she truly wanted.

She still had the contact details of her old porcelain master, and friends had recommended some reputable kilns. She planned to visit one that afternoon.

From her wardrobe, she pulled out a fitted black coat with a tailored silhouette resembling a suit jacket. Since she was visiting a senior, she thought it best to dress formally.

At eighteen, she had spent sleepless nights firing a pair of blue-and-white porcelain vases as a coming-of-age gift to herself. Truthfully, life in the Song household hadn’t been entirely bleak, they did give her birthday presents every year. But her birthday was always awkward because she shared it with Fengyu, and Madam Song Lanyi refused to let them celebrate on the same day.

So that year, in defiance, she had holed up in the kiln for months, stubbornly working through her birthday. The vases she painstakingly crafted became her self-gifted present.

Though hardly masterpieces in the grand scheme, they would at least demonstrate her sincerity to the master. Song Shizhou carefully placed them in a custom-made wooden box she had ordered days prior.

Fengyu had brought over a lot of food during her last visit, and Shizhou hadn’t been back in weeks. The oden wouldn’t keep much longer she needed to clear it out before it spoiled.

Her refrigerator was an expensive one, boasting 72-hour extreme freshness. When she opened the chilled compartment, she couldn’t help but gasp in admiration. Indeed, the oden was perfectly intact, its colors enticing. Aside from a thin layer of frost, it looked no different from what was displayed in the supermarket showcase.

Yet inside, it had already gone moldy and spoiled inedible.

Song Shizhou tied up the trash bag just as Su Ziqing video-called her.

The moment Song Shizhou answered, the call was disconnected.

Su Ziqing sent a message instead:

“You mentioned wanting to get into the porcelain business, right? I’ve already found someone for you. Do you remember Sun Mengchen? She’s the older sister of a very close friend of mine. Her family is currently in the porcelain trade most of the kilns in the Inner City are their private property.”

Su Ziqing’s tone was light, as if matchmaking came naturally to her.

Except, this lightness felt somewhat unnatural.

Deliberately so.

Looking at the address and contact details Su Ziqing had sent, Song Shizhou couldn’t help but smile.

“What a coincidence. The master I contacted happens to be the person in charge of this very kiln.”

There was a long pause before Su Ziqing replied with a scratching-head emoji.

That afternoon, Song Shizhou met with Sun Mengchen. Little Sun was nearly ten years her senior, but she was easy to talk to likely because of Su Ziqing’s recommendation. They chatted well into the evening.

Little Sun found Shizhou to be eager to learn, so they agreed on weekly masterclasses every weekend. On other days, she could drop by at 9 a.m. to study whatever interested her.

The Sun family’s ancestral secret was their method of controlling the firing time of porcelain, a technique not easily shared with outsiders. But other skills, like the drawing and glazing Shizhou was interested in, could still be picked up through observation.

By the time she left the Sun family’s workshop, evening had fallen. The night breeze brushed against her face, carrying a faint dampness in the air perhaps a sign of impending rain. The cool touch left her feeling slightly dazed.

Everything had gone more smoothly than she’d imagined.

Little Sun didn’t know about her relationship with Chen Ting, so her warmth was likely due to Su Ziqing’s influence. Countless thoughts raced through her mind, yet not a single one circled back to herself.

Not one thought acknowledged her diligence, her poised conversation, or the decent piece of porcelain she had crafted herself.

In truth, her hands had trembled when she presented her work today. Perhaps because of the repeated discouragement from Madam Song Lanyi, she lacked confidence in that piece.

Chen Ting could give her a position above all others, vast wealth, power, or even the long-withheld maternal love delayed by twenty years. But she couldn’t force growth because everything Shizhou had experienced in those two decades was real. Her heart was strong, yet scars inevitably remained.

Sometimes, they made her doubt herself.

This was the regret between Chen Ting and her something that could never be changed.

In truth, whether Madam Song’s critiques were praise or blows, Shizhou could now accept them all. The reason for her unease, her self-doubt, stemmed more from someone else someone whose opinion mattered even more.

Song Shizhou lowered her gaze and stepped out of the Sun family’s porcelain workshop.

The car she was driving now was a gift from Chen Ting. She saw no reason to refuse it. Chen Ting was her biological mother, who had been absent for over twenty years. If she kept rejecting Chen Ting’s attempts to make amends, it would come across as overly affected.

She rolled down the window halfway, letting the night breeze drift in. She rather liked this slightly cool, dewy sensation. Instead of heading straight home, she drove further into the outskirts until the car came to a slow stop before an understated iron gate.

This was a place she had once lived in for a while. After being away for nearly a month, it felt strangely unfamiliar.

Since winter began, the Inner City had seen two snowfalls. Now blanketed in silver, the Snow Pavilion finally lived up to its name.

The garden villa Miss Bai had helped design was veiled beneath a thin layer of snow. The grayish-blue eaves stretched outward, the only splash of color against the endless white.

She parked the car in front of the Ink Residence. Several shipping containers were piled up in the courtyard, making it look like a moving scene.

Bai Ruowei had packed up the belongings she left at the Ink Residence over half a month ago, but due to some unforeseen circumstances between them, retrieving the items had been postponed.

And that postponement had stretched on for a long time.

Song Shizhou turned off the engine and stepped out of the car.

Someone was waiting at the entrance.

A few standing lamps lit the stone path leading to the Ink Residence. Perhaps to match the minimalist, dry landscape style of the courtyard, the lighting was dim, casting faint, flickering shadows on the ground that seemed almost illusory and desolate.

Bai Ruowei wore a casual gray hoodie paired with loose cargo pants. Maybe because of the cold, her face was lazily tucked into the hood.

In the past, Miss Bai had always dressed impeccably when meeting her. Perhaps the recent events had left her exhausted, so even her attire had become more casual. Yet, even in such simple clothes, she still looked effortlessly chic, like a street-style model ready for a photoshoot at any moment.

Song Shizhou’s footsteps echoed on the stone path, each step making a soft pat-pat sound that seemed to reverberate in her heart, filling it with a dull ache.

Miss Bai bit her lip, the faint taste of blood spreading in her mouth. She didn’t know how long she had been waiting for Song Shizhou. During that time, she had rehearsed countless opening lines in her mind, first asking why she hadn’t stayed at the Council, then questioning her relationship with Lan Chi, and finally asking…

Asking if there was still a chance for forgiveness.

But when Song Shizhou actually appeared before her, she felt oddly restrained.

She instinctively moved to step toward Song Shizhou but caught herself mid-motion, freezing awkwardly in place. Her body shifted slightly to the side as she gestured toward the house.

“Would you like to come in?”

Song Shizhou shook her head.

“No, I’ll just grab my things and go.”

She had rejected her.

Bai Ruowei smiled.

Unsurprisingly, she had been rejected.

Both of them seemed strangely evasive, as if silently agreeing to forget certain things as if nothing had happened these past few days. No Council, no Lan Chi, none of those strange days and nights.

Only an odd sense of resignation remained.

But this calmness was somewhat clamorous, like the undercurrents and whirlpools beneath a tranquil surface seemingly peaceful on the outside, yet already tearing at each other viciously beneath.

Song Shizhou lowered her eyes and checked through the items.

“I remember I only stayed at Ink Residence for less than half a month. I didn’t expect there to be so many things. Packing them up must have been quite a hassle.”

Bai Ruowei nodded.

“It wasn’t too bad. Though it looks like a lot, it didn’t take much time to sort out.”

This wasn’t entirely accurate, as most of the packing work had fallen on Gu Zhiyu and Li Ningzhi. Miss Bai had merely sat to the side, lost in melancholy over the memories she had once forced into existence.

Song Shizhou gave a quiet “Oh.”

The atmosphere between them gradually settled into silence. The car was parked some distance away, and Li Ningzhi looked up to ask,

“Miss Song, would you like us to help you move these things?”

With so many items, it would likely take Song Shizhou all night to move them alone. She nodded in gratitude.

Li Ningzhi seemed almost flustered.

“It’s no trouble, Miss Song. This is what we should do.”

The container was heavy even two people struggled to lift it. Song Shizhou moved to help, but Bai Ruowei stopped her.

“Why didn’t you follow Chairman Chen’s suggestion and stay at the Council?”

Mia was in the kitchen washing dishes, tonight was her turn. The moment Miss Bai finished speaking, Mia disapprovingly slammed a porcelain plate onto the counter.

Yet Bai Ruowei insisted on asking the question.

Support